Premonition
by Deb3
Summary: 12th in the Fearful Symmetry series: Calleigh has started having a bad dream. But is it only a dream?
1. Default Chapter

Title: Premonition.  
  
Rating: PG-13.  
  
Series Recap: 12th in the Fearful Symmetry series. The order goes Fearful Symmetry, Can't Fight This Feeling, Gold Medals, Surprises, Honeymoon, Blackout, the Hopes and Fears, Anniversary, Framed, Sight for Sore Eyes, Trials and Tribbulations, and Premonition. All archived at Lonely Road and fanfiction.net.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own CSIM and am making no money from this. Etcetera, etcetera, and so forth.  
  
Personal Writing Creed: I will never in my life, under any circumstances, write a story that does not have a happy ending.  
  
***  
  
"Present fears are less than horrible imaginings."  
  
William Shakespeare, Macbeth  
  
***  
  
The perp entered the alley at a dead run and frantically tried the doors that lined it. The third one opened with a squeaky protest at long disuse, and he ducked inside. Horatio appeared at the end of the alley a few minutes later, with Speed lagging a bit further behind. Their guns drawn, they started down the alley together. Horatio spotted the still swinging door instantly and indicated it with a nod. They flattened themselves on either side of it against the building, then, on Horatio's count, burst through, guns ready.  
  
The building echoed emptiness. It had been some sort of restaurant or bar at one point, but that point was long past. Dust was the only customer now. Old tables filled the open space. The bar stretched along the right side of the long room, and Horatio edged that way, suddenly pouncing around the end to look behind it, ready for a shot. There was nothing to shoot.  
  
Speed edged up behind him. "You sure he came in here, H?"  
  
"Positive." It wasn't a sound so much as a sense. The difference between an occupied structure and an unoccupied one is immense, whether or not the occupants make themselves known. Someone was definitely here. Horatio would stake all his experience on it. "You cover the ground floor, and I'll take the balcony. Be careful." There was a second level that ran halfway around the room, with stairs up to it on each end. Speed nodded curtly and started moving along behind the bar toward the stage where long- gone bands had once played. Horatio headed for the nearest set of stairs. Every nerve of him was poised, ready for action, listening for any sound. There was absolutely nothing. He started across the balcony, eyes sweeping the area like radar. Two doors were at the far end of the balcony, still labeled Men and Women. He headed that way, then hesitated. Which one should he check first? Would this perp stick with convention or defy it? If Horatio guessed wrong, the consequences could be fatal. He guessed that the fear wouldn't allow sufficient thought at the moment to break a habit. He started for the Men's. Into the door, quickly covering the room. Nothing. He knelt to peer under the stall doors. Nothing. He started down the room, pushing each stall door open to check if the perp was crouched on top of the toilet with his feet up.  
  
A rattle and thud sounded from outside the room, from down on the main level, and Horatio spun around instantly, going back to the door. "Speed? You okay?"  
  
"Fine, H," came the reply. "Just tripped on an old broken chair. I don't think anybody's . . . "  
  
Horatio never heard the end of the sentence. The perp erupted from the last stall, the one he hadn't gotten to yet, and fired at close range. The force of the bullet slamming into his back knocked Horatio forward. Hearing and time both froze. Distantly, he saw himself stagger three steps across the balcony. The second bullet hit him in the neck and hurled him against the old railing, which split and broke. Horatio somersaulted off the balcony, landing on the floor below. He saw Speed firing his gun multiple times. Then, Speed was kneeling beside him, trying to hold pressure on the two gaping holes where the bullets had torn straight through him. Speed's mouth moved, but there was no sound. There was no pain, either. There was only a swirling grayness pressing in from the corners of his vision. Speed ripped out his cell phone, speaking urgently into it, but Horatio still didn't hear anything. The grayness expanded slowly, inexorably filling his vision. "Calleigh, I love you," he said, or thought he said, but he couldn't hear himself. The grayness met in the middle and overwhelmed him. His blue eyes, still open but empty, stared up toward the broken balcony rails. Speed slowly snapped the phone shut.  
  
***  
  
The urgent ring of the telephone startled Calleigh, breaking the ice that froze her into the dream. Horatio woke up instantly, accustomed to calls at any and all hours. He picked up the phone before it could ring again, and Calleigh settled back against the pillow, trying to slow her racing heart. She reached out and touched him, reassuring herself that he was alive, and he looked over and smiled at her in the early dawn that spilled in through the window. "Yes, Tripp. Where? Okay, I'll meet you there. Fine." He hung up the phone and moved across to kiss Calleigh's lips and then her abdomen. "Morning, Cal. Morning, Rosalind. That was Tripp. Pharmacy break-in, with several drugs stolen." He swung his feet out of bed and glanced at the clock. "Well, we only lost 30 minutes of sleep, anyway."  
  
Calleigh found her voice again. "Do you need me?"  
  
He leaned over to kiss her again. "Absolutely. Forever."  
  
"I mean. . ."  
  
"I know what you meant. Not on this case. You're pretty tied up with ballistics on that gang shoot out yesterday. I think I'll pull Speed off that case and leave it to you and Eric. Speed and I can handle this one."  
  
"Why don't you take Eric instead?"  
  
He paused halfway through scrambling into his pants. "Why? What's wrong with taking Speed?"  
  
Calleigh gave herself a mental shake. It was just a dream. Snap out of it. Just an incredibly vivid dream. "I, um, just thought that Eric's knowledge of drugs might help."  
  
"Might help you more in the gang shootout. We know that was drug related. Identifying what was taken won't be a problem at the pharmacy. The owner is meeting us there." He finished putting on his pants and slipped into a shirt. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Fine," she said. "I was just sound asleep and dreaming. The phone startled me. I hate waking up like that."  
  
"I know. Not my favorite way, either." He studied her intently. "You sure you're okay?"  
  
She got out of bed herself and came around to hug him. "I'm fine, Horatio. Come on, let's see if I can find you some breakfast really fast."  
  
"Haven't got time. I told Tripp I'd meet him ASAP."  
  
"ASAP means after breakfast. At least take a bagel with you. Don't make me worry that you're going to be starving out in the city somewhere."  
  
He smiled at her affectionately. "Okay, I'll grab a bagel. Don't forget to eat, yourself."  
  
"No danger," she said. "I seem to be past morning sickness now, and we're getting hungrier all the time. I'll be as wide as I am tall by February if this keeps up." She saw the thought sweep through his eyes. "And if you say that wouldn't take much, I'll throw something at you."  
  
He chuckled. "Now why would I say that?" He ducked the flying pillow from the bed, then came over to hug her tightly. "See you at CSI."  
  
"Take care of yourself, Handsome."  
  
"I always do," he said jauntily. He left the bedroom. Calleigh hesitated long enough to hear him go into the kitchen before leaving the house, making sure he was, indeed, at least grabbing a bagel. She then headed for the bathroom and turned on the shower full blast. Maybe the hot water could wash away the residue of her dream.  
  
***  
  
Tripp was already at the pharmacy, talking to the owner, when Horatio arrived. "Are you it?" he asked gruffly.  
  
"Good morning to you, too. Speed should be here any minute. You're stuck with just the two of us. There was a bad gang shoot-out yesterday, and several people are working that."  
  
"Yeah, I heard about that," said Tripp. "This is Mr. Alvarez, the owner."  
  
Mr. Alvarez was short, Hispanic, and upset. "Where were you last night? There is an alarm system."  
  
"We'll have to check that out," said Horatio. "I take it the alarm never sounded." Tripp shook his head. "What exactly was taken?"  
  
"Narcotics. Hydrocodone, mostly. They got all of that one. There are small amounts of other drugs missing."  
  
"Probably cover up, trying to make it look like a general robbery. Hydrocodone has quite a market on the streets, these days. Easy to move."  
  
Speed arrived on his bike, parked outside, and entered the pharmacy. "Sorry, H. Bad traffic jam."  
  
"Must have been. Did you give my apologies to Breeze?"  
  
"What makes you so sure Breeze was there?"  
  
"Your mind was somewhere else when you got dressed. Your socks don't match." Speed stared down at them. Not only did they not match, but the difference was glaringly obvious. One sock was red with black motorcycles, while the other was solid dark blue. "I like the motorcycles," Horatio continued. "Present?"  
  
"Yeah," Speed mumbled, embarrassed. "So what's going on here?" Horatio filled him in.  
  
"How long is this going to take?" asked Alvarez.  
  
"Give us until noon to process the store."  
  
"Until noon? I open at 8:30."  
  
"This is a crime scene," said Horatio. "The fewer people through here, the better. You do want it solved as quickly as possible, don't you?"  
  
Alvarez locked eyes with Horatio, then retreated before the courteous fire. "Yes, of course. Noon will be fine."  
  
Horatio's eyes met Tripp's, and a silent message passed between them. "Mr. Alvarez," said Tripp, "if you would come down to the station with me, we can get the report filed and the inventory of missing drugs filled out." Alvarez, still grumbling softly, headed for the door. "Nice socks, Speedle," said Tripp in parting. "Or sock, I should say." They left, and Speed kicked the foot with the offending sock against the counter.  
  
"Don't kick evidence in a crime scene," Horatio corrected gently. "Didn't you ever learn that in college?"  
  
"Sorry, H. I'll go outside and kick the curb next time." Or he'd just kick himself to save time.  
  
"Next time, just wear both of them. I'm sure they look a lot better as a set." Horatio's eyes twinkled mischievously, and Speed ducked behind the counter and started into the rows of medicine, turning his back on the world in hopes that it would leave him alone. In many ways, Horatio was harder to work with since he'd gotten together with Calleigh and relaxed. His sense of humor emerged much more often now, and Speed could never win once they got started. He had a bone to pick with Breeze tonight. She should have noticed the socks. She had given them to him, after all.  
  
Horatio walked back over to the door and studied the alarm. Very sophisticated. Most pharmacies had excellent lock systems. This one should have set off an alarm, both here and with the police, instantly. It showed no signs of being tampered with. He began to dust the control pad for fingerprints.  
  
The two CSIs processed in silent teamwork for a while, Horatio covering the front of the pharmacy, Speed the back. The more Horatio looked at it, the more he was convinced that this system had been disabled. He started a mental checklist. Find out if it was set when Alvarez got here. Get fingerprints of Alvarez and all other employees for comparison. Trouble was, if it was an employee, like Horatio thought it might be, there was a perfect excuse for fingerprints being there. Get the records of which prescriptions were filled the last few days. If one of the employees had not filled any hydrocodone but had fingerprints all over that drawer, it would give them a starting point for questioning. Find out if Alvarez had any children, or if any of the other employees had children. Particularly sons in their teens to early 20s, prime age for a little drug dealing on the side.  
  
At that point, Horatio's thoughts were shattered by a sharp crash from the back of the store. He jumped up instantly, heading around the counter to check. "Speed? You okay?" He found a metal stepstool lying on its side and Speed picking himself up off the floor, looking disgusted with himself.  
  
"Fine, H. This stupid stool was in the way, and I came around the corner into that aisle and didn't see it."  
  
"You didn't see it?" Horatio looked at the polished metallic surface. It was hardly camouflaged against the tile floor.  
  
"Yeah." Speed wanted to leave it there, but Horatio wasn't satisfied. Speed couldn't just ignore him standing there. Those eyes could drill a story out of anybody. "I was looking at my socks, okay? Wasn't looking where I was going."  
  
Horatio grinned. "When we leave here, you can swing by your apartment on the way to CSI and change them if you like. Meanwhile, keep your eyes up."  
  
"Right, H. Thanks." They resumed working.  
  
***  
  
Calleigh spent all morning working on the gang shootout. She'd probably be spending the next few days untangling this one. It was a ballistics nightmare. 18 weapons had been involved, some fired by more than one person, as gang members picked up the weapons from other dead gang members as their own guns ran out of ammunition. Sorting out who had fired which gun from where was going to be a challenge. She still felt a vague uneasiness about that dream, though. She had never had one like that before. Bad dreams from memories of her childhood, yes, but never a dream that hadn't happened but was so vivid. She thought of talking to Horatio about it, but she hesitated. Part of her was afraid he would laugh at her, and part of her was afraid that by speaking about it, bringing it out in the open, she would make it happen.  
  
"Hi, Beautiful." She jumped slightly. She hadn't even heard or felt him coming, which showed how preoccupied she had been. Horatio's arms closed gently around hers. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."  
  
"I was just concentrating." She smiled at him. Having him here, reassuringly alive, with those blue eyes surveying her with approval instead of staring emptily toward the ceiling, did a better job at washing away the dream than her hot shower had. It was just a dream, she told herself. This is reality. "How was the pharmacy?"  
  
"Odd case. It has its points. I think there was an inside information source somewhere. The alarm never went off. How are you doing with the shootout?"  
  
"Drowning in ballistics," she replied. "When three people shoot the same gun from three different places, it complicates my work."  
  
"Allow me to throw you a lifeline. Want to go to lunch?"  
  
"Sure." She stood up from the work table gratefully, stretching her back. "I was thinking it was about lunch time. Rosalind is getting hungry."  
  
"She's not the only one. One bagel doesn't go far."  
  
"I did warn you." They exited Ballistics together and walked by an empty Trace on the way outside. "Where's Speed? Still at the pharmacy?"  
  
"He went home to change his socks."  
  
"He what?"  
  
"Went home to change his socks. He arrived at the crime scene wearing one bright red with black motorcycles and one dark blue."  
  
Calleigh burst out laughing. "Did you get a picture?"  
  
"Sorry. He had the camera." They wound through the parking garage and entered the Hummer. "I felt sorry for him, really. Tripp saw them, and you can guess how he reacted."  
  
"So did you pretend not to notice?"  
  
"I didn't feel that sorry for him. In fact, I'm the one who pointed them out to Tripp. And the pharmacy owner."  
  
She punched him lightly on the arm as he pulled out. "Horatio Caine, for such a considerate, gentle person, you can be an absolute imp at times."  
  
He looked across at her as he stopped at a light. "It's your influence. We're growing young together, remember? I'm doing all the things I never did in my childhood." His smile faded as a few of the things he had done in his childhood advanced to the front of his mind. "Rosalind is going to have a happy childhood," he promised.  
  
"Right," she said, patting her abdomen, which was starting to swell gently. "This time, we're going to do it right."  
  
They ate in mutual anticipation, talking about Rosalind and their plans for the future. The shadow of Calleigh's dream shortened and retreated in the high noon sunlight of his presence. She had almost forgotten about it by the time they pulled back into CSI.  
  
"Speed's back, I see," said Horatio, nodding at the bike.  
  
"It was nice of you to let him go home and change them. At least Eric didn't see him like that. He'd never let him live it down."  
  
"It wasn't just nice, it was practical. He was a walking hazard, watching his feet instead of where he was going. He tripped over a stool at the pharmacy and fell clean over. I thought he'd really hurt himself for a minute when I heard the crash."  
  
Calleigh's stride faltered slightly. "You mean, you didn't see it? Just heard it?"  
  
"Right. I was processing out front, and he was in back. It made enough of a clatter I think you could have heard it on the street, though."  
  
"So you dropped what you were doing immediately and went to check on him."  
  
"Yes." He looked at her oddly. "What about it? He wasn't really hurt, just embarrassed."  
  
"Nothing. Just wish I'd seen it, that's all." She smiled at him, and he returned it.  
  
"I'm going over to headquarters to see what Tripp has. My phone's on if you need me."  
  
"Fine. See you later, Horatio."  
  
She watched him until he was totally out of sight, then whipped around and headed for Trace. Speed was the only one there. Great. She advanced on him with a fury that he registered even through the headphones he wore. He turned around to face her, looking puzzled at her expression, and switched his music off. "Hi, Calleigh. What's up?"  
  
"Just what did you think you were doing this morning?" She kept her voice pitched low, but the anger came through, like a snake hissing quietly.  
  
"What?" Speed scrambled mentally, trying to put this conversation into a framework. Any framework.  
  
"At the pharmacy," said Calleigh, like it was obvious.  
  
"Um, I was processing the scene, Calleigh. What about it?"  
  
"You fell over that stool and startled Horatio. He had to come check on you." Her eyes were almost as drill-like as Horatio's could get at times.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry, Calleigh. It's not like I meant to." Why should she be concerned about Horatio when he was the one who had fallen?  
  
"Do you realize how dangerous that could be, for you to get careless about something and distract him when you're processing a crime scene?"  
  
She really was furious. This conversation isn't real, Speed thought. What the hell is going on here? "Calleigh, it was just the two of us in an empty building. It didn't matter. It's not like he had people lined up waiting to shoot him." He regretted it the minute he said it. She went pale, and her eyes widened even more.  
  
"You just be careful when you're working with him, Speed. Do you hear me? Be careful around him and don't distract him from things. This job is dangerous. Don't ever forget that." She whirled around and stalked off.  
  
Speed sat there numbly looking after her for several minutes. "What the hell was that about?" he asked the empty room. It didn't reply, apparently as puzzled as he was. He finally gave up trying to process that conversation and switched back to processing the evidence from the pharmacy. At least it wasn't going to get mad at him. He made a vow to check his socks in the mornings from now on, though.  
  
***  
  
The phone rang, once again setting Calleigh free from her dream. She had been frozen there staring at Horatio's empty eyes for what seemed like half the night. She wasn't even able to scream. Shouldn't you at least be able to scream at the end of a nightmare?  
  
"Horatio." His calm voice in the dark next to her reassured her. "Again? Okay. Better call Alexx this time. No, I will. I'll meet you there." He hung up the phone and reached over to hug her. It was totally dark this time, much earlier than yesterday. "Another pharmacy got hit, Calleigh. This time, the alarm went off. Also, one of the pharmacists was there working late, catching up on paperwork. They shot him." He squeezed her reassuringly. "I've got to go. I'm sorry, Cal, but this is almost certainly tied to the other one. We can't let second shift take it and split the investigation."  
  
She looked at the clock. 3:30 AM. "I understand, Horatio. Be careful, you hear?"  
  
"I will." He slipped out from under the covers, finding his clothes easily in the dark. "You can still get a few more hours sleep. Rosalind probably needs it even if you don't."  
  
"I'm not getting up. Call me a bit later this morning, though, and let me know what's going on." And let me know you're okay.  
  
"Sure. I'll see you later, Beautiful." He left, still not turning on the bedroom light, courteous as always. He didn't want to jolt her any further into wakefulness than she already was. She didn't want to go back to sleep, though. She didn't think she could stand having that dream again and waking up without him beside her alive and well. She lay there in the dark with her eyes open for the full three hours until the alarm rang, trying to convince herself that everything was all right. 


	2. Premonition 2

Here's chapter 2. See chapter 1 for disclaimer and other required fine print. I'll try to get more posted as soon as I can. We're ready to enter my favorite part of this story now, but I had to lay the groundwork first.  
  
***  
  
"To sleep; perchance to dream; ay, there's the rub."  
  
William Shakespeare, Hamlet  
  
***  
  
Miami was never really dark at night, but the lights blazing inside the pharmacy and the red and blue lights swirling outside set Horatio's teeth on edge. The safety had been disrupted in his city. He took it as a personal offense. He entered the building to find Tripp standing at a careful distance, staring at the dead body slumped over the computer desk. Tripp turned to face him.  
  
"No one's been past the counter except the first responding officer, to check for vital signs."  
  
"Good. Alexx is coming." Horatio eyed the man. He had apparently been shot, although they would have to straighten him up to be sure. His head rested on his arms, and blood pooled on his computer keyboard. Horatio's eyes went past the body to scan the rest of the room and froze. "There's a security camera."  
  
"Saw that," Tripp grunted. "Got that much, anyway."  
  
"Why do you suppose the man didn't get up? He looks like he was still just sitting there. He should have reacted when they burst in and the alarm went off. Reached for the phone, stood up, something."  
  
"Maybe it happened too fast," Tripp suggested.  
  
"If they broke in and shot him that quickly, they already had the gun out and ready. And why break in on the night he was working late, anyway? Why not just wait for a better opportunity. The other pharmacy was so meticulous and thought out, but this one is much more reckless." He glanced from the man behind the counter to the door, gauging sight lines. He would have been clearly visible to the perps, who had entered through the main door, triggering the alarm. He might have been too preoccupied with his work to see them outside, but they would have known he was there. Horatio's lips compressed slightly. This whole scenario felt odd.  
  
"You think it isn't connected with the other one?" Tripp asked.  
  
"We don't know yet. I'm not assuming anything. If it was the same perps, they became a lot more careless since yesterday. We need to check victimology here, too. They saw him ahead of time. He might be the goal here, not the drugs."  
  
Alexx and Speed arrived almost together. Horatio and Tripp both immediately inspected Speed's socks, which were a matching set of subdued brown. Alexx looked from one of them to the other. "Am I missing something?"  
  
"You never do," Horatio said silkily. "Get some pictures first, Speed. Only the first responding officer has been past the counter since the perps. We've got an almost undisturbed crime scene."  
  
"Wonders never cease." Speed pulled out his camera and started snapping shots. Alexx stood by patiently. She sometimes wished that her skills were used in healing life, like she had originally intended in medical school, not just in pursuing those who took it. She would swear that her victims talked to her in ways, but she didn't get to do the kind of healing she had once dreamed of. On the other hand, seeing criminals brought down, seeing families brought peace, seeing victims brought justice was rewarding. This wasn't what she had first planned, but given the opportunity, she wouldn't change it. The dead needed someone to speak for them.  
  
Speed stepped back. "All yours," he said, and Alexx moved in. Horatio glided alongside her instantly, ready to help as well as observe. They straightened the victim in his chair. A single bullet hole was between the eyes.  
  
"Almost execution style," said Alexx.  
  
Horatio nodded. "I would give you good odds at this point that this man knew his killer."  
  
"Or the killer knew him, at least," Speed put in.  
  
"Right," Horatio conceded. "Probably the same thing, but not necessarily." He looked around again, absorbing the scene. "Speed, be sure you get the tape from that security camera. Tripp is already contacting the owner. This pharmacy will be closed all day, and we won't rush this scene as much. Look for any similarities, but don't overlook differences. At this point, we can't say they were done by the same perps."  
  
"Right, H." Speed was still shooting pictures. He had moved into the rows of medicine, taking pictures of the open drawers. This crime had been committed much faster than the other, and the drawers were left hanging open. "Hydrocodone again," said Speed.  
  
"Mmm," Horatio acknowledged. He headed back out to the front to look at the door. This door had had the glass panel broken in and then additional glass beaten out. If the man behind the counter hadn't had at least a few seconds warning, he must have been deaf. Horatio surveyed the broken glass edges carefully and soon found what he was looking for. "One of them cut himself breaking in." He surveyed the red-edged glass with triumph and pulled out a swab. "And where there's blood, there's DNA."  
  
Alexx came back around the counter. "I'm ready to move him, Horatio." She glanced at her watch. "I'll just go on to CSI. I'll call you when the autopsy is done."  
  
"Thank you, Alexx," he said. "Sorry to drag you out at this hour."  
  
She smiled at him sadly. "It is our job."  
  
"Yes," he said, with regretful determination. "It is."  
  
***  
  
Calleigh tried to make herself work on the ballistics from that shootout, but her ears were on edge, waiting for his call. He had said he would call. She put her cell phone on the table and stared at it. It didn't seem to notice her prompting. She sighed and resumed her efforts at work. She was already feeling tired, too, which was a bad sign this early in the work day. She could have used that extra three hours of sleep. On the other hand, her mind revolted at the thought of going to sleep. As long as she was awake, she wouldn't have the dream.  
  
The phone rang, and she dove at it, nearly knocking it off the table, not even looking at the caller ID. "Horatio?" she asked frantically.  
  
"No such luck." It was Adele. "Just me, I'm afraid. How's the ballistics work coming on our gang shoot out?"  
  
"Slowly," Calleigh said. "I'm sorry, Adele, but this case is a nightmare. They kept changing guns and shooting from different spots."  
  
"Not nice of them," Adele quipped. "Criminals are getting so inconsiderate these days."  
  
Calleigh didn't laugh. What if he's trying to call right now, and we're tying up the phone, she thought. "Look, Adele, I'll get it as soon as I can, but this one is going to take a few days. I'm doing my best."  
  
"I know. Doesn't really matter to holding them. The survivors are so busy fingering the other gang's survivors that we've got at least one witness to testify for everyone there. They all want to deal. The DA's going to love this case."  
  
"I'm sure. Was there anything else, Adele?"  
  
"Not really, just wanted a progress report." The detective paused for a second. "Are you okay, Calleigh? You sound a little edgy."  
  
Her being okay wasn't the question here. "Fine. Just a little tired. Tripp woke us up at 3:30 wanting Horatio, and I couldn't get back to sleep." It suddenly occurred to her that if Horatio had been shot out on the case this morning, Adele would have heard it. "You haven't heard anything from Tripp on that one, have you?"  
  
"He came through about 30 minutes ago, still grumbling about yesterday's pharmacy. Horatio won't say they're connected, but he won't say they aren't. Tripp wants an answer."  
  
Calleigh grinned suddenly, picturing Horatio and Tripp having that exchange. Obviously, Horatio had been fine within the last hour. "He can't hurry the evidence. I can't either, Adele. I'll keep you posted."  
  
"Fine. Talk to you later." Adele finally hung up, and Calleigh returned her cell phone to the table and waited for it to ring again. It apparently had joined a conspiracy with the evidence and wouldn't be hurried. She sighed and resumed her own work.  
  
"Calleigh." The interruption came from Eric this time, and in person, not by phone. He stood in the doorway. "Finished yet?"  
  
She whirled around with an expression that backed him off a half step. "No, I'm not finished yet. You try sorting this one out."  
  
"No, thanks," he replied with his easy grin, defusing the situation by insisting that he saw nothing dangerous in it. Calleigh felt herself start to return his smile. It was hardly Eric's fault that he wasn't Horatio.  
  
"What about you? Do you have everything processed and every report filed on your end?"  
  
"Hardly." He extended both hands, and she suddenly realized that he had two coffee cups. "I just wanted some coffee, and I thought you could probably use some, too, given the ballistics in this case."  
  
She really smiled at him that time. "Thanks, Eric. You're right, I do." She reached out to take her cup and nearly dropped it in the exchange as the phone rang. Eric hadn't quite released the cup yet, and he caught it just in time as Calleigh pounced on the phone like a cat on a mouse, giving it no opportunity to escape. "Hello?"  
  
"Hi, Beautiful." His incomparable voice teased her ear, sounding reassuringly alive.  
  
"Hi, Horatio. Just a sec." She turned back to Eric and took her cup from him. "Thank you, Eric. You're a lifesaver. Now scram." Eric gave her a mock salute and vanished, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Those two were so funny sometimes, almost like teenagers.  
  
"Sorry, Horatio," Calleigh said.  
  
"Are we alone now?"  
  
"Can't speak for you, but the coast is clear on my end."  
  
He chuckled. "Speed just left with the first bits of evidence to process from here, so I'm safe. I'll finish up here myself. I want Speed to work on the video tape."  
  
Ridiculously, she felt a little better that Speed was no longer with him. "You've got a video tape?"  
  
"Yes. Security camera. We've also got DNA."  
  
"And a victim."  
  
The lilt fell out of his voice. "That, too. Enough about my end. Which life did Eric save currently?"  
  
"Mine. He brought me coffee."  
  
"Did you get back to sleep after I left?"  
  
Now why did he have to ask her that? "Um, well."  
  
He interpreted that response correctly. "Are you okay, Calleigh?"  
  
"I'm fine." She longed to ask him the same question, but he would really find that odd. "Just missed a few hours sleep. So did you, for that matter."  
  
"Don't work late tonight. That's an order from your boss. You go home and go to bed early."  
  
Again, the thought of sleep terrified her. Especially sleep without him. "You ought to do the same thing."  
  
He hesitated. "I'll see. This case is getting more complicated all the time."  
  
"Not a simple drug robbery to turn a quick profit?"  
  
"Not a simple anything. This was almost an execution this morning. I'm interested in getting the report on that tape." He chuckled suddenly. "By the way, Speed was wearing matching socks today. Even with getting waked up at 3:30."  
  
Calleigh tried to smile and match his light tone, but the socks reminded her of Speed falling over the stool, which reminded her of the dream. "I'll bet Breeze picked them out for him this morning," she said, but she sounded more tired than joking.  
  
"Are you sure you're okay, Cal?"  
  
"Fine," she said.  
  
He hesitated for another second, then moved on, to her relief. "I'd better get back to work."  
  
"So should I, before the boss catches me at it."  
  
He laughed. "See you later. Take care of yourself, Calleigh. Let me talk to Rosalind for a second." She pushed the phone against the bulge in her abdomen, smiling at the thought of Horatio and his daughter. If Horatio lived to see her. The smile faded, and she pulled the phone back to her ear.  
  
"You take care of yourself too, Horatio."  
  
"I always do. I love you."  
  
"I love you, too. Bye."  
  
Calleigh ended the call and put the phone back on the table, still within easy reach, in case another call came. Just as long as it was from him, and not from some official informing her of his death. She gave herself a mental shake and buried her thoughts in her work again. Or at least tried to.  
  
***  
  
Horatio worked in the pharmacy until late that afternoon, determined not to miss anything here. They had been gifted with an undisturbed crime scene. They had to take full advantage of it. He was having trouble concentrating himself, though, worrying about Calleigh. He'd been busy the last few days but not so busy that he failed to notice that something was bothering her. Something other than just being pregnant. She really seemed to be having few problems with pregnancy so far, and they were both glad of it. But if pregnancy wasn't the problem, what was? He was missing vital evidence here. He recognized the feeling instantly from his work.  
  
His cell phone interrupted him three times during the afternoon. One call was from Alexx, reporting her autopsy findings. Nothing they hadn't already known. The man had been killed with a single shot, and he was looking straight at his killer. She had sent drug tests. Sometimes pharmacists can succumb to temptation and become addicts.  
  
The second call was from Speed reporting on the video tape. "He definitely knew them, H. They were wearing stocking masks. Broke the door and bolted in, and he started to get up, then froze and dropped back down. Three perps, and the lead one already had the gun out. They talked for a second while the other two perps went around the counter and grabbed drugs. Then the lead perp shot the pharmacist after talking to him a bit, and they left. They also grabbed some Sudafed from the front part of the store on their way out." Sudafed contained ingredients which in large quantities could be useful in manufacturing meth.  
  
"Does the angle show which one broke the glass on the door?"  
  
"No."  
  
"So we can't say if the DNA is from the murderer."  
  
"Sorry, H."  
  
"Well, keep going on the other samples. Especially that blood."  
  
"Running it now. Anything new there?"  
  
"I found some kind of residue in one of the aisles. I think it may have come from a perp's shoes. Looks like the same as yesterday's. I'll bring it back by CSI in a bit. On the tape before the break in, Speed, did the cleaning crew come by earlier in the evening?"  
  
"Yeah. Floors had just been cleaned. They left right before the manager did. Then the one pharmacist came in two hours later and was doing computer work."  
  
"We'll compare it to his shoes, but I think it goes with a perp. There was residue in that other pharmacy, too, but we don't have the tape there to prove the floors were just cleaned. We need to find out from Alvarez about the cleaning crew schedule on that pharmacy."  
  
"The vic was only in the aisles once or twice. He mostly stayed at the computer. Has to be from a perp, I'd say."  
  
"Good work, Speed. Keep me posted."  
  
"Will do." Speed hung up, and the phone rang almost immediately. It was Tripp.  
  
"Well, do you have my answer yet?"  
  
"I don't know, Tripp. I just talked to Speed. We have a few leads, but we're still processing the evidence."  
  
Tripp almost growled. "Come on, Horatio. I'm not Johnny Cochran, and you're not on the stand. Do you think they're connected?"  
  
Horatio relented. "Yes. But don't hold me to it yet."  
  
"I won't," Tripp agreed, but he would have placed a large bet that Horatio was right.  
  
"What about Alvarez's son? Any more luck with him?"  
  
"Nope. He knows nothing. Amazing the number of high school seniors we run across that know nothing. Makes you worry about the country sometimes."  
  
"Maybe his education will improve as we go along. No fingerprints from that first pharmacy, but he could have worn gloves. Someone disabled that lock, so someone knew the code. If we could get his tennis shoes, we could try to match a residue sample. I found residue here that looks the same. Some kind of dirt, but mixed with something else."  
  
"Has Speed identified it yet?"  
  
"No, he hasn't had time. Too much else. He'll run it and compare both samples as soon as I get this one over there."  
  
"What about the tape?"  
  
"Three perps, wearing stocking masks. One definite leader. The vic knew the leader. They talked for a while."  
  
Tripp sighed. "I'll see if we can get a warrant for the Alvarez kid's shoes, but it's shaky so far."  
  
"Working on it," Horatio said. "One other thing."  
  
"What's that, H?"  
  
"I'd put out the word among patrol cars tonight to keep an extra eye on pharmacies."  
  
Tripp sighed. "Right. All we need is another one. I'm working on the Alvarez's kid's associates. I took your suggestion and talked to his younger brother. He knows a lot more than his big brother does. He's given me names. I'll see if any of them have a history."  
  
"Good idea. Let me know." They ended the call, and Horatio took one final sweep around the pharmacy. Then he headed for CSI, debating on the way there whether to drop off the evidence first or go check on Calleigh.  
  
***  
  
Calleigh was tired to the point that coffee wasn't that effective anymore. Horatio found her sitting staring blankly at her work. He had dropped the samples off first but had done it at full speed. "Hi, Beautiful."  
  
She jumped, straightening up. "Hi, Handsome." He came across and kissed her.  
  
"You look exhausted. It's 6:00 now. Go home, get supper, and go to bed, Calleigh."  
  
He looked tired himself, she thought, but at least he looked alive. "Only if you come with me."  
  
"I ought. . ." She reached up and clamped a hand over his mouth, stopping the words.  
  
"You've been working since 3:30. I've only been awake since 3:30. If you want to be any use to anyone tomorrow, you need to go to bed yourself." Even with him, the idea of going to sleep still frightened her. "Or maybe we could watch a movie. Go home, eat, and watch a movie, like normal people. We could just have a quiet, relaxing night."  
  
He had been studying her with his analytical expression, and he yielded abruptly, for her sake, not his. "Okay. Let's go."  
  
***  
  
They picked up a pizza on the way home, and Calleigh put it on the coffee table as Horatio went to the movie case. "You sure you don't want to just go straight to bed, Cal?"  
  
"Positive. We'll still get to bed early." Too early, probably.  
  
He eyed her again, then dropped the subject, deciding she was too tired to be probed. He made a vow to return to it tomorrow, though. "What do you want to watch?"  
  
She considered. "Something totally ludicrous. Nothing like work."  
  
He surveyed the selection. "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade."  
  
"Perfect." They started the movie and curled up together on the couch, polishing off the pizza. At least her appetite wasn't affected, Horatio thought. He kept finding her looking at him, though, not the screen.  
  
"What is it?" he asked finally.  
  
"Nothing." She switched to staring at the TV so intently that Horatio expected Harrison Ford to notice. He pulled her closer to him and left the subject alone. Calleigh kept her eyes firmly on the screen then, but she leaned into him, trying to convince herself that he would always be there, trying to keep her increasingly heavy eyelids open. She failed on both counts.  
  
Horatio stopped the movie as soon as he was sure she was asleep. Gently, soundlessly, he picked her up and carried her down the hall to the bedroom, putting her in bed and tucking her in. She never stirred until he broke contact with her to get undressed himself. Then, she shifted restlessly, and one probing hand went out, but she did not wake up. Horatio undressed as quickly as he could and slipped under the covers beside her, pulling her against him protectively. She settled down instantly, giving a soft purr, almost like a cat. He held his own eyes open as long as he could, watching her sleep. Calleigh, he thought, what's bothering you? The soft rhythm of her breathing didn't answer him, but it finally lulled him to sleep himself. 


	3. Premonition 3

"I had a dream which was not all a dream."  
  
George Gordon, Lord Byron  
  
***  
  
The alarm clock blared its morning summons, shaking Calleigh loose from her dream. She woke up and reached out to turn it off gratefully. The gratitude slid back into fear as she realized that the other half of the bed was empty. She sat up. "Horatio?" There was no response. Surely she couldn't have slept through yet another phone call. She scrambled out of bed, not even bothering to put on her robe, and ran out into the hall, skidding to a relieved stop beside the bathroom door. The door was closed, but she could hear the running water now. He was taking a shower.  
  
Calleigh retreated to the bedroom, forcing herself to take deep breaths. It's just a dream, Cal. It doesn't mean anything. She put on her robe and headed for the kitchen, starting coffee, getting breakfast put together. She hadn't actually had the chance to make him breakfast for the last two days. The task usually brought a glow of happiness, fresh realization that she was actually married to Horatio, that she had the privilege now of sharing breakfast with him all the time. Today was different, though. Her mind still felt half frozen into that dream.  
  
Horatio entered the kitchen as she put the plates on the table. He came across to kiss her, twice. "Good morning, Beautiful. Good morning, Rosalind. Did you sleep well?"  
  
Calleigh all but stared at him. "What?"  
  
"You seemed sound asleep when I woke up, so I thought I'd give you a few more minutes. You were looking pretty tired yesterday."  
  
"I'm fine," she said, still stuck on his description of her being sound asleep. Did she really look that peaceful while she was having those horrible dreams? Well, they did end up totally frozen, after all, not like the kind of nightmare that wakes you up thrashing and screaming. Still, she was a bit disappointed in him. She would have expected him to know the difference, to have sensed it somehow. Horatio apparently sensed something now, because he didn't look convinced. "Really, Horatio, I'm fine. I was a little tired last night, I guess. This is pretty demanding work on that gang shooting. Come on, let's eat."  
  
She asked him questions about the pharmacy case over breakfast, not letting him steer the conversation back to her. He told her all the angles of the case, but he was still looking at her analytically, trying to pin down what was wrong. She determinedly looked as bright and cheerful as she could and ate every mouthful, giving her best imitation of being fine. It wasn't working.  
  
"Cal," he said as they finished eating, "honestly, what's bothering you?"  
  
"What do you mean?" she dodged. Just then, his cell phone rang. He sighed and flipped it open.  
  
"Horatio. Yes, Tripp. Another one? Okay, I'll be there ASAP." He snapped the phone shut. "Another pharmacy got hit last night. You didn't answer my question yet, though. What's wrong? You've had something on your mind for the last few days."  
  
She was suddenly gripped with a fear that she would never see him over the breakfast table like this again. "Horatio," she blurted out, "promise me that you won't take any risks today, no matter what."  
  
His reaction took her completely by surprise. He just stared at her, not saying anything, and she saw the sudden, deep hurt in his beautiful eyes, saw it and didn't understand it, any more than she understood his silence. "Promise me, Horatio," she insisted.  
  
His voice sounded numb. "I. . . I can't, Calleigh."  
  
"You can't?" She was furious suddenly. Was his job more important to him than her peace of mind? "What kind of an answer is that?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Calleigh. I just can't. I'll. . ." He hesitated. "I'll be as careful as I can be."  
  
"That's not good enough, Horatio!" Her voice was rising, more in fear than anger.  
  
He was staring at her with an expression of puzzled betrayal, but his voice was still as quiet as ever when he spoke. "Calleigh, what is this about?"  
  
"Can't you promise me to be reasonable for just one day? Is that too much to ask?" He was silent. "Apparently it is, I guess."  
  
"Calleigh. . . " he started helplessly, and his cell phone rang again. He directed all the frustration at it that he hadn't directed at her. "Horatio," he snapped. His expression changed again, to one of resignation. "No, not yet. I'm leaving soon. Okay, I'll be there ASAP. Yes, I really mean it this time. ASAP." He ended the call and looked back at her, and his voice dropped back to its usual soft tones. "That was Tripp again. They found two men locked in the bathroom at the pharmacy. Both shot. One dead, one still alive. The one alive is talking." He stood up, looking at her helplessly. "I've got to go, Calleigh. I'll be as careful as I can. I promise you that."  
  
"Do that," she said, but she still wanted more. He wavered there for a second, torn between his responsibilities.  
  
"I'll see you later, Cal," he said finally. "I love you." Fear paralyzed her. He was out the door before her tongue unfroze enough to return the words. He looked back at her as he closed the door behind him, and she saw his eyes again. Stunned, hurt, and confused.  
  
Calleigh put her hands on the table and pushed her head down into them, trying to shut out the memory of that expression. She couldn't do it. While her mind kept insisting that he had wronged her, she was left with the absolute conviction that she had wronged him. She didn't understand exactly what had happened during that conversation. Finally, her thoughts broke down into sobs, but they weren't tears of anger but of fear.  
  
***  
  
Calleigh could not settle to anything at work. She fought through the whole morning, trying to complete the shooting analysis of which bullets came from where. The work was too complicated to do without her full attention on it, though. She actually caught several errors when she took time after lunch to really look at the chart she was building. She threw her pen down as if it had offended her and surrendered to thought.  
  
That sudden, sharp look of hurt in Horatio's eyes puzzled her. She had never meant to hurt him. She still wasn't sure how she had. Part of her wanted to be angry at him, crying out that if anyone had hurt anyone in that discussion, he had hurt her. Why hadn't he agreed? Didn't he love her more than his job? Such a simple request, from his pregnant wife. Shouldn't he have given her the assurance she needed? Her mind kept wandering off that point, though, and settling again on the undoubted fact that she had hurt him. Why? How? Asking him not to be reckless on the job shouldn't have hurt him. She sighed, then picked her pen back up and chewed it thoughtfully. This was even worse than the last few days. Her worry for him wasn't just physical anymore. She resented the fact that he wouldn't promise her not to take risks, but she hadn't meant to hurt him. She only wanted him to be safe. Now, though, he was out there trying to work but wounded in spirit, not in body. Wounded by her. She was sure of it, even if she still didn't understand what exactly had happened this morning. He had left not angry but hurt, and she had sent him out that way. She hadn't even said she loved him while he could still hear it.  
  
With another sigh, she pulled out her cell phone and studied it for a good five minutes before she dialed. He answered on the first ring. "Hello, Beautiful." All of the old affection was still in his voice, but there was an uncertainty, a tentativeness underlying his tone that suddenly made her very glad she had called. The two words spoke volumes to her, as did his saying hello instead of hi or hey. His feelings hadn't changed, but he honestly wasn't sure if the same could be said for hers. How on earth had she knocked him to that point?  
  
"Hi, Horatio. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you that." She still thought she should have had the right, though.  
  
His tone relaxed slightly. "I'm sorry I couldn't, Cal. I wish I could for you." Why can't you, she wanted to shout, but she didn't. It wasn't worth insisting on if it was going to hurt him.  
  
"It's okay, Horatio. I'd better let you get back to work. Are you still with Tripp?"  
  
"Yes," he said. "We're on a good lead. I've really got to go, Calleigh."  
  
"I understand. We'll talk tonight, though."  
  
"I think that would be a good idea," he said. "I'll see you later, Cal. Tell Rosalind hi for me. I do love you, Calleigh."  
  
"I know," she said truthfully. "I love you too, Horatio. I'll see you tonight, and we'll talk things over then. Bye."  
  
"Bye." He hung up, and Calleigh sat there staring at the phone in her hand. She didn't regret apologizing, but she still wasn't sure what she had just apologized for.  
  
"Well, Calleigh," she said out loud to herself, "you're committed to talking it over with him tonight. You'd better at least give some thought to what on earth you're going to say."  
  
The sound of a throat clearing softly startled her. She spun around and saw Alexx standing in the doorway to Ballistics. "How long have you been there?"  
  
"Longer than I should have," Alexx admitted. "Since you were staring at the phone trying to decide to call. Would you like a practice run with me before you talk to him tonight, or should I just develop selective deafness?"  
  
A flush of gratitude warmed Calleigh clear to her toes. Such a great friend, Alexx. She really would, if asked, drop the subject entirely and never mention it again. She smiled. "Actually, I wouldn't mind a little advice."  
  
"No charge," said Alexx. "Why don't we go out for coffee somewhere? I heard that our slavedriving boss isn't in the office today, so we can probably sneak out without his noticing."  
  
Calleigh's smile widened. "I heard the same rumor." She stood up, grabbing her purse. "Come on. My treat."  
  
"Let's go Dutch," Alexx suggested.  
  
"Nope. You advise, I pay."  
  
The ME relented. "Fine. I'll do my best to be worth it."  
  
They took Calleigh's car and went to a small café nearby. They ordered coffee and cinnamon rolls and sat down at a corner table. It was past the lunch rush but before dinner, and not many patrons were here, so they could talk in relative privacy. Calleigh still hesitated. "We sort of had a fight this morning, only it wasn't really."  
  
"Calleigh," Alexx said patiently, "if you want my advice, I'm going to have to have more background than that."  
  
Calleigh started over. "Three nights ago, I started having this dream." She ran through the details of it, which were still etched indelibly on her mind, and Alexx shuddered herself.  
  
"Have you told him about it?"  
  
"No. He had to rush right off that first morning to the pharmacy break in. There wasn't a chance."  
  
"And you haven't told him since then, either?"  
  
"No." She analyzed her cinnamon roll intently. "I'm afraid he'll just say it's silly. Actually, I think it's silly myself. It's just a dream."  
  
"Sounds like it's more than a dream now. It's becoming a problem, from that phone conversation I heard."  
  
Calleigh looked back up to meet her friend's eyes. "This morning, he was trying to find out what was bothering me again, and then he got the call to go out to that new pharmacy. I had the dream again last night, and I just didn't want to lose him. So I asked him to promise me that he wouldn't take any risks today, no matter what."  
  
Alexx sat up straighter in her chair. "He'd didn't actually promise you that, did he?"  
  
"No," Calleigh said. Alexx gave a slight sigh of relief. "That's what we fought about. Only it wasn't really a fight. He never got mad, and I was more scared than mad. But I hurt him, asking him that, and I just don't understand why. He looked almost betrayed or something. And then Tripp called back and needed him right away, and we had to leave it there. I'm still not quite sure what happened, though. And when I talked to him just now, he really sounded rattled, Alexx, like he wasn't sure how I felt anymore. I never meant to do that. I don't even know how I did." The flood of words ran dry, and Calleigh just stared at her coffee cup.  
  
Alexx gave her friend a sympathetic smile. "Calleigh, what is it you love about Horatio?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Go with me here. What do you love about him?"  
  
She considered it. "Lots of things. He has so much integrity. He's honest. I know the outside isn't as important, but he is gorgeous. Probably the biggest thing, I guess, is how he cares about people. He's totally unselfish."  
  
"Exactly," said Alexx. "He puts other people's needs ahead of his own. That's the Horatio you love, and that's who you don't want to lose." She leaned forward a bit over the table, closing the distance. "But honey, there are other ways to lose him besides his being killed on the job. One of those ways is to ask him to be less than who he is. If he changed himself but was still alive, you'd still lose him, because he wouldn't be Horatio."  
  
"Ask him to be less than who he is," Calleigh repeated. "But I didn't do that, did I?" Alexx was silent, letting her work through it. "Oh, Lord, Alexx, I did, didn't I? That's not what I meant."  
  
"I know," her friend replied. "But that's how it came across. That's why it hurt him, Calleigh. Look at it from his perspective. He doesn't know anything about your dream. He just knows that something has been bothering you the last few days, something you've deliberately avoided telling him. Then, when he tries to push you on it, the first thing you say that isn't a dodge is to ask him to change. How does he know you haven't just decided you'd like him better as someone else?"  
  
Calleigh groaned. "And right after that, he said he'd try to be as careful as he could, and I said that wasn't good enough." Alexx flinched. "But I didn't mean he wasn't good enough. I was just worried about him." She sighed. "He was still trying, even then, to find out where I was coming from. He asked me that. And I just asked him why he couldn't be reasonable for one day." She stared at her hands, which were suddenly clenched, crushing an innocent, defenseless cinnamon roll. "What have I done, Alexx? I didn't mean it like that."  
  
"I know. I can see where you both were coming from. Calleigh, Horatio isn't reckless. He is as careful as he can be. But this job has risks, and it will always have more risks for him because of who he is. We both know that if he ever comes across another collapsing bridge, he'd go out on it again to free a child. He wouldn't even have to think about it. Even as much as it hurt him last time." Calleigh nodded. "He can't promise you he won't take any risks, Calleigh. That's asking him to be less than Horatio. But right now, he doesn't have any idea where you were coming from. That request totally blindsided him this morning. You've got to tell him about this dream, show him your motives, so at least he understands that you weren't saying he isn't good enough for you like he is."  
  
"Not good enough." Calleigh shook her head in amazement. "I still wonder sometimes if I'm good enough for him."  
  
"I think you both deserve each other, in the very best sense," said Alexx. "But chemistry isn't enough to keep a relationship strong through the years. You've got to have communication. That's why you've got to tell him about this. Believe me, he won't tell you it's silly."  
  
Calleigh tore off a piece of cinnamon roll and chewed it thoughtfully. "I'm still not sure exactly what to say, though. Should I just tell him I've had this dream and I'm afraid it will come true?"  
  
"Calleigh, have you ever in your life had a repeating dream come true? I'm not eliminating the possibility that it happens, but you've never mentioned being gifted that way."  
  
Calleigh smiled fondly. "It's only happened once. I dreamed him, and he came true."  
  
Alexx smiled back at her. "You've still got him, Calleigh. And even if this is a premonition of some sort, telling him would forewarn him. If the situation ever came up, he could just call out to Speed instead of turning around. Maybe you're dreaming it to prevent it from happening."  
  
"I hadn't thought of it that way," Calleigh replied. She suddenly froze halfway through reaching for another cinnamon roll. "Speed. I forgot all about Speed worrying about Horatio. I guess I owe him an apology, too." She related her explosion at the trace expert.  
  
"A simple apology will work with Speed. He'll just blame it on hormones or something. The background really is none of his business. But with Horatio, there's a lot more damage that's been done already. He's got to have the details, Calleigh. You can't hide this from him any longer."  
  
"I know," Calleigh sighed. "I never meant to hurt him this morning. I just hope I haven't ruined anything permanently."  
  
"You haven't," Alexx reassured her. "You two have enough of a foundation there that it won't be knocked over on one misunderstanding. But you've got to tell him everything now. That's the only way to undo this morning. Let him know where you're coming from and make sure he sees that you still love him for who he is. Honey, you've got one of the easiest men in the world to apologize to. He's one of the few people on this planet who honestly doesn't keep score."  
  
Calleigh nodded. "I've even wondered sometimes if I'm still dreaming him." She took a swallow of coffee. "Do you think it is just hormones or something, Alexx? I've never had a dream like this one. Dreams of bad memories are upsetting, but I know where they come from. This is totally different."  
  
"It could well be," Alexx said. "Pregnancy affects people in different ways. I've certainly heard of odd dreams. You seem to be having a pretty easy time of it so far."  
  
"I am," Calleigh said. "I did feel a little sick in the mornings for the first few months, but nothing like I've heard some people have. And I don't really think I've been that moody, do you?"  
  
"No," said Alexx. "You've seemed remarkably like yourself."  
  
"My mother always had easy pregnancies, she said. Maybe I should have expected something to come up. I've had it too easy. The only thing is, I have developed this crazy craving for watermelon."  
  
Alexx laughed. "With me, it was raspberry milkshakes. Couldn't get enough of them. Jonathan nearly went crazy getting them for me. It's impossible to say for sure, but I think this dream might well be just hormones. And like I said, even if it is based on reality somehow, telling Horatio would help him avoid it."  
  
"You make it sound so reasonable," Calleigh said. "I've just been so confused the last few days. It sounds silly, but it's so vivid, Alexx. I don't know what to make of it."  
  
"Tell him that," Alexx urged her. "Tell him you're confused and that you don't know what to make of it. But don't ever tell him that he has to change who he is for you. That's the only way you'll ever break his heart, Calleigh."  
  
Calleigh nodded slowly. "I understand how that hit him now, but honestly, I didn't mean it that way. At least, I know how to straighten that one out. I guess I will just tell him everything. It's not like he's difficult to talk to." She reached across the table and put a hand on her friend's arm. "Thanks, Alexx. You ought to get a degree in counseling."  
  
"Sometimes I wonder." The ME smiled at her. "You'll do fine with him, Calleigh. Just remember to communicate. Not even Horatio can read your mind all the time."  
  
"He does a bit, I swear."  
  
"That's why I said all the time." Alexx pushed back from the table. "And now, we'd better get back to our respective jobs before we get caught."  
  
Calleigh stood up, feeling much better than she had the last few days, and headed for the cash register with Alexx behind her. Just as she had finished tucking the change back in her purse, her cell phone rang. She took it out and flipped it open. "Calleigh Caine."  
  
"Calleigh." Adele's voice was absolutely taut. "Is Horatio out with Tripp working that pharmacy case today?"  
  
"Yes. Why?" Her voice tightened up a bit in response to Adele's tone. Alexx looked at her with interest.  
  
"Tripp just called in a minute ago reporting an explosion and requesting assistance. Multiple officers down, he said. He's hurt himself. At least one fatality."  
  
Calleigh's heart stopped. "Oh my God. Where?" If Tripp had been the one to call, even though he was hurt, that could only mean that everyone with him was in worse shape.  
  
Adele gave her the address. "We don't know anything more yet. Officers are still en route."  
  
"So am I." Calleigh snapped the phone shut and bolted for the parking lot. Alexx ran after her, catching her by the car and pulling the keys out of her hand.  
  
"I'll drive," the ME said. "Where?" She didn't ask what. The look on Calleigh's face was enough. Calleigh gave her the address, and Alexx guided the car across the city as Calleigh sat in the other seat staring sightlessly at the traffic, seeing only Horatio's face as she had seen it that morning, with that expression of hurt confusion. She prayed that wouldn't be her last sight of him. 


	4. Premonition 4

"In the long, sleepless watches of the night."  
  
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow  
  
***  
  
The car plowed with efficient haste through the traffic. Calleigh on some distant level was stunned at how quickly Alexx could get across the city when she wanted to. They rounded the final corner, and the ME brought the car quickly to a halt, pulling over to the curb, leaning forward herself with stunned eyes as she absorbed the scene. "My God," said Alexx quietly, and it was a prayer, not just for Horatio but for everyone who was a target of that chaotic swarm of emergency vehicles. The entire block was cordoned off with police tape already. Alexx counted five ambulances and a dozen police cars. The house in the center of the taped-off square had been utterly demolished, blown to such shreds that all resemblance to a house had been lost. Houses two, three, and even four away had suffered some damage. Residents clustered in stunned groups on the sidewalks or around the ambulances. Many of them were bleeding from flying debris.  
  
Calleigh had the door open almost before Alexx stopped. She bolted toward the center of the disaster, barely remembering to duck beneath the police tape before she ran straight through it. A policeman grabbed her arm, and she flashed her badge at him and kept running. It wasn't Horatio she saw first but Tripp, being fastened onto an gurney. He had a cut on his forehead which was still bleeding steadily, despite the pressure by an EMT, and his right leg was splinted. His expression would have made a charging bull think twice. Not simple pain but pure fury. "Tripp," Calleigh gasped as she ran up to him. "Where's Horatio?" He waved a hand toward the right, and Calleigh swung that way without slowing. She passed a body respectfully covered with a police tarp, hesitated, then kept going. She would check among the living first.  
  
She heard his voice suddenly, and she nearly collapsed in relief. He was alive. Not only alive, but speaking her own name. "Has anyone called Calleigh yet? Somebody needs to call her, tell her I'm fine." Calleigh ducked around the back of the nearest ambulance and crashed back from relief into fear. The rear doors were open, and Horatio was sitting there, with an EMT trying to evaluate him and hold him still simultaneously, a difficult task since he kept trying to get up. The front of his shirt was bloodstained, and both of his arms were absolutely soaked in blood from the elbows to wrists. It looked like he had plunged both arms into a barrel of red paint. Calleigh gasped, and he heard it and turned his head instantly.  
  
"Calleigh. I'm okay." He followed her stunned eyes. "Really. Most of it isn't mine."  
  
"Plenty of it is," the EMT corrected. "This would be a lot easier if you'd stop trying to get up."  
  
Calleigh went around to his other side and planted both hands on his shoulders, firmly pushing him back down. "Be still, Horatio," she said sharply.  
  
He stopped resisting the medic, but his expression was still concerned, and not for himself. "Are you okay, Cal?" The medic shook his head in exasperation and continued trying to assess the damage.  
  
"I'm fine," she said. "What happened?"  
  
"It was a meth house. The lead perp on the pharmacy cases worked from here, and we were closing in on him when the whole place blew. Probably accidental." His eyes switched briefly from her to the former house, then back to hers. "No one would commit suicide like that, and he didn't have enough notice to rig anything up for us."  
  
"What happened to you?"  
  
"I was with Tripp and another officer, coming toward the front door. We weren't in yet. The door hit Tripp and knocked him several feet. He's got a broken leg. I took the frame from the front window, but I managed to get my hands up in front of my face. It hit me across both arms and knocked me down."  
  
"Are you sure you didn't get hit on the head?" Calleigh demanded. The EMT had finished putting a field dressing on one of Horatio's arms and came around to the other side. Calleigh shifted over herself to let him work, but she maintained contact, both hands still on his shoulders.  
  
"Positive. I got my arms up in time, like I said."  
  
"Good thing," the EMT put in.  
  
Calleigh switched her interrogation to the EMT. "How badly did it hurt him?"  
  
"He's got multiple deep cuts on both forearms and probably severe bruising. That's the most obvious thing, but they will check him over thoroughly at the ER." The EMT finished wrapping the second arm and glanced at the first one, where blood had started to soak through the bandage. "No arteries hit, but plenty of veins. He's going to look like he got his arms run over by a sewing machine."  
  
"He had a craniotomy a year ago on the right with repair of several arteries," Calleigh put in.  
  
The medic ran his hands along Horatio's head, instantly finding the spot. "Yeah, I can tell, but there's no swelling anywhere around it. It feels stable to me. They will check everything out when we get to the hospital."  
  
"I didn't get hit on the head," Horatio insisted. "Just the arms." His eyes went back to the house. "Others weren't as lucky."  
  
Calleigh couldn't care less about others at the moment. She tightened her grip on his shoulders. "I love you, Horatio," she said with as much conviction as she could put into it.  
  
His uncertain eyes acknowledged the statement and appreciated it, but she could tell he wondered how much of it was just because he was hurt. "I love you, too, Cal," he responded, and there was no doubt in that answer at all.  
  
She squeezed his shoulders even more tightly. "I mean it," she insisted.  
  
Alexx came around the open ambulance door. "Horatio! Are you okay?" Her eyes calculated the damage.  
  
"Fine," he said. "Just a few cuts."  
  
Another gurney was wheeled up at that point. "We've got to get these two to the hospital," the second EMT said. "Let's get them loaded."  
  
Horatio stood up, but Calleigh didn't let him go. "I'll ride along with you."  
  
"No room," the EMT protested. "We're running two and three patients on a load, and at that, we'll have to come back."  
  
"How many?" Alexx asked.  
  
"Don't know yet," said the EMT, and Horatio spoke up.  
  
"At least 3 killed, counting the perp. Probably dozens injured, counting the residents." He smiled at Calleigh reassuringly, or tried to, anyway. "Just follow us, Cal. There are a lot more people here besides me who need the room in the ambulance."  
  
"We'll be right behind you," Alexx put in. She pried Calleigh's hands off Horatio. "Come on, Calleigh, he's right. I'm still driving, though." Horatio gave Alexx a look of pure gratitude and finally yielded to the EMT's urging, entering the ambulance.  
  
***  
  
The ER doctor finished putting in the last stitch. "That's 63 altogether," he said. "We'll get you started on antibiotics, too. And even though there doesn't seem to be any other damage, I want you to stay here at least tonight for observation.  
  
"No," Horatio said, with quiet iron in the voice. "We're going home."  
  
"We are not," Calleigh insisted. "We're staying here."  
  
"You've got to get some rest, and you won't sleep as well if we're here."  
  
"They need to keep an eye on you, so we're staying."  
  
"Wrong." Horatio stood up, shaking loose the doctor, who was trying to apply a bandage. "We're going home."  
  
"No way." Calleigh planted herself squarely between him and the door. "We're not going anywhere."  
  
The ER doctor cleared his throat. "If I could make a suggestion, Mrs. Caine, why don't you go home, and he can stay here. There's no reason you have to stay together tonight."  
  
Calleigh and Horatio both turned on him with a joint fury that actually backed him up a few steps. Their responses came in perfect unison, without even an echo. "No."  
  
Horatio turned back to Calleigh. "You can't just sit here all night. You've been under enough stress the last few days. We're going home."  
  
"You aren't setting one foot outside this hospital until the doctor clears it." Calleigh's lips tightened up in determination.  
  
"Yes, I am," he corrected.  
  
"No, you aren't." Their voices had been rising slightly all through this exchange, and now they both fell into silence momentarily, glaring at each other, both breathing a little quickly. The blue eyes locked. The irresistible force met the immovable object. Abruptly, after a few seconds of stalemate, they both seemed to deflate suddenly, simultaneously, as they really looked at each other, realizing how exhausted the other one was. Again, they spoke in perfect unison as they switched sides.  
  
"Maybe we could stay," Horatio conceded.  
  
"Maybe we could go," Calleigh acknowledged at precisely the same time. Their eyes locked again. A crowd of spectators was gathering, looking back and forth like they were watching a tennis match.  
  
"We can get a room with two beds here, and they can keep an eye on both of us," said Horatio.  
  
"You wouldn't get any rest here, and you know it. We're going home and getting in our own bed."  
  
"No, we're not. We're staying here tonight."  
  
"Wrong." Calleigh gripped his arm right across several of his 63 stitches and shifted her hand to above his elbow instantly as he winced. "Come on, Horatio, we're going home." She started trying to drag him across the room to the door.  
  
"We aren't going anywhere," Horatio countered. He dug in his heels, and he weighed more. She couldn't budge him.  
  
"Come on, Horatio. I'll call in reinforcements, if I have to."  
  
"I'm not moving. We're staying here tonight. At least tonight." His jaw was set stubbornly.  
  
Alexx's sharp whistle froze the action more efficiently than a referee's would have. She had come up unnoticed by either of them. "Both of you, sit down. Now!"  
  
Calleigh and Horatio split apart and sat, Calleigh dropping into a chair and Horatio sitting back down on the edge of the examining table. The doctor shot Alexx a look of grateful respect and closed the distance again, starting to bandage Horatio's arms. Horatio barely seemed to notice. He and Calleigh both sat motionless, eyes still on each other. Alexx stood there looking from one to the other of them and trying to decide who needed the most urgent care - him, her, or them. She reached her decision as the doctor finished taping down the end of the last bandage. "Come on. I'm driving both of you home."  
  
They both stood and fell in behind her as meekly as if she were the Pied Piper. Alexx turned to the doctor. "Just give me the prescriptions he needs, and we'll get them filled at the hospital pharmacy on the way out."  
  
"If he's leaving, he'll have to sign out against medical advice. I really do recommend that he stay here at least for tonight."  
  
"I'm a doctor myself," Alexx said. "I'll accept full responsibility."  
  
The doctor glanced uncertainly from Horatio to Calleigh and dropped his voice into a near whisper. "Are you sure they're safe together?" he asked. They never even glanced at him, still locked on each other like missile guidance systems.  
  
"Of course," Alexx said. "They're really extremely affectionate with each other."  
  
The doctor eyed them dubiously, then shrugged. He did have other patients waiting, probably more appreciative ones. Still grumbling under his breath, he scribbled out prescriptions for antibiotics and painkillers and handed them to her. She pocketed them and marched out of the ER, Horatio and Calleigh both trailing her silently. As the double doors swung to behind them, the audience of ER workers and patients slowly began to disperse, and the hospital hush crept back in.  
  
***  
  
Alexx pulled Calleigh's car into the driveway but didn't bother to turn off the ignition. "I'll be back at 7:00 tomorrow morning to check on you, and I'll return the car then. Make sure he takes those pills, Calleigh."  
  
"I will," she promised, the first words either of them had spoken since leaving the hospital.  
  
"Good night, then."  
  
"Thank you, Alexx," said Horatio. "Good night." They both got out of the car and headed for the house in silence. Alexx backed out of the driveway and left as Calleigh unlocked the front door.  
  
The minute they were inside the house with the door shut, they turned to each other. Calleigh wrapped her arms around him fiercely, squeezing him with every ounce of strength in her. He put his arms around her gingerly, but the feeling wasn't any less. "I'm sorry, Horatio," she said. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I said those things this morning. I didn't mean it."  
  
"Why did you ask me, then?"  
  
She pulled him over to the couch, and they sat down, not side by side but facing each other, allowing full communication. "I was just scared. I didn't think about it before I spoke."  
  
His eyes softened a bit. "Scared of what?"  
  
"I've been having this dream the last three nights." She plunged into the story, unable to believe she had resisted talking about it with him. Telling him was even easier than telling Alexx, and his expression didn't show a trace of thinking it was silly. "So when Tripp called, I suddenly had this feeling that it would all come true, and I'd never see you again. That's why I asked you not to take any risks. But I didn't think about how it would sound to you, without knowing any of the background."  
  
He relaxed suddenly. "I didn't know, Calleigh. I'm sorry."  
  
"I shouldn't have asked you anyway." She scooted a little closer to him. "Horatio, don't ever change yourself. I think you're wonderful just like you are. That's why I don't want to lose you. But I'd rather lose you than force you to compromise yourself." She put a hand on his arm and instantly removed it as he drew his breath in sharply. The whole arm felt hot to the touch. "You'd better take some of those antibiotics. The painkillers, too."  
  
He smiled at her, his old easy grin. "I'm okay, Cal. I wasn't hurt badly. It won't take long to heal."  
  
She stood up and ruffled his hair affectionately but stuck to the literal meaning of the words. "Even so, you're taking your medicine. I'll make us some hot tea."  
  
He followed her into the kitchen. "So that's what's been bothering you the last few days. I'm sorry I didn't notice when you were asleep. I could have woken you up from it. You haven't been restless at nights, though."  
  
"It ends up just frozen. It's the weirdest dream, really. So vivid." She grinned suddenly, enjoying the ability to laugh at it. "I nearly snapped Speed's head off the other day, after you had mentioned his tripping over the stool."  
  
"That explains it, then."  
  
"What?"  
  
"How carefully he was watching where he was going in the other pharmacies. He was afraid of annoying you. I'm happy to report that he hasn't tripped over anything for two days. At least not when I was around."  
  
The microwave dinged, and she removed the cups and dropped teabags in. "Poor Speed. I ought to send him a note or something to apologize."  
  
"Send him a doughnut. Believe me, it will mean more to him."  
  
She laughed. "Probably would. Bakeries could take lessons from FTD. Apology doughnuts, sympathy doughnuts."  
  
"Congratulations doughnuts," he added. "There's a fortune waiting to be made there."  
  
It felt unbelievably good just to relax with him. She sat down at the table. "Horatio, now that you know, we can keep it from happening, can't we?"  
  
"Absolutely," he agreed. "If I ever find myself in an abandoned restaurant chasing a perp, I won't give Speed the opportunity to fall over things and distract me. And I promise you that."  
  
She opened the prescription bottles, giving him one of each along with his tea cup. He stared at them unwillingly. "Take them, Horatio. I don't want to force feed them to you, but I will if I have to."  
  
He gulped them down. "I hate drugs." His mind went back to the pharmacy cases, which led him straight back to the meth house explosion that day. He started to bring that up, to talk about what had happened, and stopped himself abruptly as he looked over at Calleigh. She was staring at her own cup, and she looked about as tired as he felt. She needed sleep, not more conversation. "We both need some rest tonight, Calleigh. Between your dreams and my wondering what was wrong, I don't think last night counted for either of us. And the two before that weren't much better."  
  
She looked back up at him and gave him a tired smile. "Are we okay?"  
  
He got up and came around the table to her, giving her an affectionate squeeze with just his fingertips. "We're fine. Come on. High time the three of us were in bed."  
  
She stood up. "I think Rosalind has more energy left than the rest of us."  
  
"She's had the easiest day." He smiled at her. "Think of February, Calleigh. It's going to be wonderful."  
  
"Yes," she agreed. "All three of us. We'll be a great family."  
  
He kissed her. "We already are." They switched out the kitchen light and headed to the bedroom together.  
  
***  
  
Calleigh woke up, not from her dream but just a refreshingly normal waking up. She raised her head to look at the digital clock and realized abruptly that Horatio wasn't there. She sat up, listening intently. She couldn't hear him anywhere. It was 2:30 AM. Calleigh got up, pulled her robe on, and padded down the hall in her bare feet. He wasn't in the bathroom. She reached the end of the hall and spotted his silhouette instantly in the moonlight that flooded the living room. He was sitting on the couch, and his shoulders were quivering. Still, there was no sound. He was just sitting there crying silently. He came alert suddenly, looking back toward the hall, and she walked around the end of the couch and climbed onto it with him.  
  
"What's wrong, Horatio? Are your arms still hurting?" She knew that wasn't it as soon as she said it. Mere physical pain could not make him cry.  
  
He shook his head, not trying to hide his tear-streaked face from her. He hadn't wanted to wake her up, but now that she was awake, he appreciated the company. "I was just thinking of Paul."  
  
"Paul who?"  
  
"Paul Martin. He's on the narcotics squad. Or was, I should say. He's one of the two officers who died in that explosion."  
  
The explosion. Calleigh realized guiltily that she still didn't know who had died there. She hadn't even given the others a thought, too focused on Horatio. "I didn't even ask. I'm sorry, Horatio."  
  
He squeezed her and instantly let go as he hurt himself doing it. "You had plenty else to think about. Are you feeling better? You weren't having that dream again, were you? I prodded you when I woke up, and you just said mmm. Sure didn't sound like a nightmare."  
  
"No, I wasn't having it. Nice dreams this time. And yes, I'm feeling better. I haven't slept that soundly in days. Now tell me about that explosion." She couldn't believe she hadn't already asked him for details. Of course he needed to talk about it. He had said that most of the blood wasn't his, but she hadn't drawn the obvious conclusion. "You were trying to help him, weren't you?"  
  
He nodded again. "There were five of us going in. Three in the front, and Martin and his partner went around back to secure the back way and keep the perp from escaping. They were a lot closer to the house than we were." He paused for a second, then went on. "His partner died instantly. Paul was hit in the chest and neck by debris. He was bleeding badly, and I was trying to stop it. But I couldn't save him, Cal." His glistening eyes met hers. "If the ambulances had gotten there just a little faster, he might have had a chance."  
  
"That's not your fault. You did your best. So that's why Tripp was the one to call it in."  
  
"Right. I could move, but he couldn't. The other man with us had been knocked out, so I was the one who went around to check on the others." He shivered slightly. "At least he didn't die alone."  
  
"What family did he have?" She was sure he would know. Horatio knew what family most of the people on the force had.  
  
"A wife, no kids. They had only been married for six months. He told me to tell her he loved her. I'll have to get in touch with her tomorrow to deliver the message. Or is it today?" He didn't have his watch on since the bandages extended down to the tops of his hands.  
  
"It's 2:30. Would you like me to go with you when you talk to her, Horatio?"  
  
He looked at her gratefully. "Yes. I think it might help, having another woman there. She's got nothing left, Cal."  
  
Calleigh shook her head. "She's got memories. Being left with memories is better than never having known it at all." Her own eyes welled up in sympathy for that other woman whose husband hadn't come home. She hoped they had been in perfect harmony when he left that morning and that Mrs. Martin wouldn't be going through the rest of her life regretting a last conversation that she didn't know was the last one. Like Calleigh herself had come frighteningly close to. She reached out and stroked Horatio's face lightly. "How did you find out about the house in the first place?"  
  
"The man who was shot and lived at the pharmacy was Alvarez's son. He'd fallen in with the wrong crowd, got tied up with drug gangs and ran up a debt. They gave him drugs to get him hooked, then threatened him when he couldn't pay for all they'd given him. His getting the code for his father's pharmacy was payback, but I think the gang knew his father owned a pharmacy up front. Otherwise, why extend him credit on drugs? The leader of the gang was supposed to cancel his debt if he could get them in and get some drugs for them, especially hydrocodone and meth components. Hydrocodone sells big these days."  
  
"But the leader wasn't satisfied with one pharmacy."  
  
"Right. Too easy. He threatened to kill the Alvarez kid unless he went along with them. He knew too much from that first pharmacy. The second one was settling a grudge, too. The gang leader - a man called Snake - had been dealing to the pharmacist's son, and his father packed his son off to rehab and shut off all contact with his friends. That's why that particular pharmacy was picked. Snake knew the pharmacist by sight. They had had a confrontation when the father followed his son to a drug deal. When he saw him working there late, he decided to take care of him at the same time he stole the drugs. He was wearing a mask, but he told the pharmacist exactly who he was, at gunpoint, made him beg for his life, then shot him anyway." Calleigh shivered. "At the third pharmacy, Snake shot an employee of the cleaning service, just because he was there. Didn't even know him. Alvarez freaked out and said he was going straight to the police, and Snake shot him, too. The kid at least had enough sense to play dead. First intelligent move he's made in a while."  
  
"What about the alarm system on the third pharmacy?"  
  
"It wasn't working properly. Hadn't been tested in ages."  
  
"So the Alvarez kid is talking now?"  
  
"He couldn't wait to. He contributed the DNA on the broken glass at the second pharmacy, by the way. The evidence on him is rock solid, so his only hope was to deal. The trouble is, he only knew Snake by that name, and the third perp who was with them on the robberies he didn't have a name for at all. We spent a good bit of yesterday at the hospital running photos by him. He identified Snake finally, and we tracked down rumors of what they thought was his meth house through the Narcotics squad. We got the warrant and came in quietly. And the whole place blew."  
  
"Was Snake in there?"  
  
"Someone had seen him go in half an hour before. We'll have to wait and see what bodies turn up, but I'm sure he was there."  
  
"So the case is closed, then?"  
  
He shook his head. "The third perp is still out there, unless he happened to get killed in the explosion, too. If he didn't, I'll catch him. Two officers died working this case. Everyone involved is going down. If that third man isn't facing God right now, he's about to be facing me." His eyes glowed almost like a cat's in the dark, burning with predatory intent.  
  
Calleigh reached out and pulled him gently against her, holding him soothingly, wincing herself at the pain hiding beneath the bandages. In spite of his disclaimer, she could tell his arms were hurting him more again. It was probably that which had woken him up in the first place, she thought. "I'm not sure if you should go to work tomorrow - today."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with my legs. I'm not leaving this one, Calleigh."  
  
She relented, standing up and heading for the kitchen. "You'd better take some more of those painkillers, then. You need more rest before morning. We do have to talk to Mrs. Martin, too."  
  
He stood up and followed her. "We have to talk to Mrs. Martin twice, in fact."  
  
She shook out two of the painkillers instead of one this time and handed them to him, along with a glass of water. "Twice?"  
  
"Twice," he confirmed. "Once to give her Paul's message, and once to tell her that every single living person involved is now behind bars. And both of those conversations will take place today."  
  
She hugged him carefully, squeezing his ribs, not his arms. "I believe you," she said sincerely. "But let's get some more sleep, first. Are you okay now?"  
  
He smiled at her. "Not yet, but doing better. I won't be okay until this one is closed." He followed her back to the bedroom, and they snuggled down under the covers together. He spooned himself against her gratefully, but he couldn't help thinking of Paul Martin's wife, sleeping alone tonight and the other future nights. "I'll get him, Cal," he promised. "I'll get him." It was the last thing he said before drifting off to sleep again, and she knew it would be the first thought in his mind on awakening. Look out, perp, she thought. Horatio is coming. With one final prayer herself for Mrs. Martin and the other new widow, she followed him into sleep - deep, dreamless sleep. 


	5. Premonition 5

Here's part 5. See part 1 for disclaimers, etc. Lisa Wilson, making a brief reappearance here, is from the Hopes and Fears.  
  
***  
  
"And it isn't a dream. Not a dream after all."  
  
Les Miserables, the musical  
  
***  
  
Calleigh woke up lazily, keeping her body perfectly still but stretching her mind luxuriously after the soundest night's sleep she'd had all week, even with the interruption in the middle of it. She opened her eyes instantly - since being blind for two weeks, she always relished just opening her eyes on the world every morning - but she lay there quietly for several minutes. She didn't want to disturb Horatio. He was snuggled against her, and she could tell from his breathing that he was still asleep. He probably needed it as much as she had, poor man. He hadn't really gotten sound asleep until 3:00 AM. She rolled her head gently until she could see both his face and the clock. He didn't stir. It was 5:45.  
  
Her mind ran over the events of the past 24 hours again. It was incredible how much had been packed into those hours. She had realized, with Alexx's help, that there was more than one way to lose him, and she had almost lost him in multiple ways. This morning, in the crisp early sunrise, her dream seemed ridiculous. Maybe telling him about it would make it go away now. She vowed to never let him leave the house again without telling him she loved him, though. She had to remember that a successful relationship was uncharted waters for Horatio even more than it was for her. Every event of his life seemed to have conspired against him to make him believe that he had let the people closest to him down. When he had no other context to fit her actions into, that would be the one most likely to resurface. He had lived with her love for only just over a year, but he had lived for decades thinking that he wasn't good enough. She had made so much progress with him that she sometimes forgot his background. He even sometimes forgot now. But its shadow was still there, even if it had shrunk, and she had to remember not to give it an opening to reclaim the ground she had won. Communication, she told herself. Hiding things just compounded the problems. It was a recent concept for her, too, but they had to remember it. They could help each other with it, after all. They were in this together.  
  
She ran one hand across the growing swelling in her abdomen, thinking about Rosalind, about the three of them together. This is a happy family, she thought. I'm finally learning what that means. Not perfect, but better than perfect. It was real. And reality, unlike a dream, could be held and talked to and lived with. It could face problems and overcome them. She reached out and stroked his cheek lightly, lovingly. Yes, this was better than a dream.  
  
An idea suddenly struck her, something that would be a tangible reminder of her feelings for him. Communication was vital, but she also understood the power of symbols. She slowly, surreptitiously crept out from under the covers. He shifted slightly, then settled back down. She picked up her clothes silently and tiptoed out of the bedroom. Once into the kitchen with her clothes on, she looked up a number, picked up the phone, and dialed. It was a crazy hour for a social call, but she knew that the person she was calling would be up this early. In fact, this was probably her best chance of reaching her.  
  
"Hello." The voice was curious but wide awake already.  
  
"Hi, Lisa. This is Calleigh Caine. Remember me?"  
  
"Of course. Hi, Calleigh. Haven't talked to you in a few months. How are you? And how is Mr. Caine?"  
  
"He's fine. Things are wonderful, Lisa. I'm pregnant."  
  
"Awesome. When's the foaling date?"  
  
"Late February. How is life at the stable?"  
  
"Fine. I still miss Sam, but Emily is a good partner. The business is holding up. We're doing okay this year, even without Sam's money to fall back on." Lisa hesitated for a second. "Did you want something, Calleigh? Not that I'm not glad to hear from you, but most people besides me aren't up at this hour."  
  
"Yes, actually, I wanted a little shopping advice. I'm looking for something, and I thought you could tell me the best place."  
  
Lisa sounded dubious. "Shopping advice? You're kidding. I really think someone else could help you better, Calleigh."  
  
"No, believe me, you're perfect for this. I can't think of anybody better qualified to help me." She explained what she wanted, and Lisa did, in fact, know immediately where to find it and even had some suggestions on selection. They chatted amiably for a few more minutes, then hung up.  
  
Humming softly to herself, Calleigh started to make coffee. Her cell phone rang, and she pounced on it, hushing it instantly, wanting to give Horatio as much time as she could asleep. "Hello."  
  
"Hi, Calleigh." It was Adele. "Sorry, I know it's early. I'm trying to get a head start on the day. I just went by the hospital early on the way to work, and they said Horatio hadn't stayed."  
  
"No, he's here. Still asleep, though. Did you need him?"  
  
"No, don't wake him up. I just wanted to warn him to look out for approaching paperwork."  
  
Calleigh sighed. "The explosion. They're wanting a report from everyone, aren't they?"  
  
"In triplicate. Bureaucracy strikes again. They want the CSIs to process that scene today, too, and get a cause for the explosion. Not H, of course. I'm sure they'd understand his taking the day off, but they'll be tracking him down at home. Paperwork waits for no one."  
  
"He probably isn't going to be at home." Calleigh and Adele sighed in unison. "I doubt he wants to process the site, though. He's more interested in who wasn't there. He'll probably let Speed or Eric do it. I think Eric's almost done with our gang shoot out. And before you ask, I'll try to finish it today. I got a little side tracked yesterday."  
  
"I can imagine," Adele said. "How is he? Tripp said he was cut up pretty badly by the broken glass in the window frame but seemed okay otherwise."  
  
"63 stitches," Calleigh said. Adele whistled softly. "He's determined to finish out the pharmacy cases today, though. It's personal now. You know how he gets, especially if an officer gets killed. How's Tripp?"  
  
"Making life miserable for the nurses. He's got a broken leg, but it's not serious. He definitely isn't a good patient, though."  
  
Calleigh laughed. "I'm sure. What about the other officer, the one who was knocked out?"  
  
"He's got a concussion. He'll be okay, though. Tell Horatio, when he wakes up, that the bureaucrats want his statement some time today, and the sooner the better."  
  
"I'll tell him. Thanks for the warning, Adele." They hung up, and Calleigh went back to making coffee. She glanced at the clock. Almost 6:30, and Alexx would be here at 7:00. She hated to wake him when he had finally gotten asleep, but she had no choice. As soon as the coffee was ready, she poured a cup and headed back for the bedroom, armed with antibiotics and painkillers.  
  
Horatio was still lying there in exactly the same position she had left him. Obviously, the cell phone ringing hadn't disturbed him. Calleigh put a hand on his shoulder gently. "Horatio. I'm sorry, Horatio, but this day is already trying to start without waiting for us." He stirred slightly, rolled over on one of his arms, and recoiled instantly, coming upright with a jerk. Calleigh flinched. "Here." She thrust the coffee and pills at him, and he took them without complaint, then swung his feet over the edge, sitting up on the side of the bed. "Adele just called." She ran through the conversation with the detective, and Horatio groaned.  
  
"Official statements about the explosion. This day only needed that."  
  
"Sorry. Don't shoot the messenger." She kissed the top of his head. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Like I got hit with a flying window frame."  
  
"You could just stay in bed today. I'll tell the world to leave you alone."  
  
He shook his head and climbed to his feet. "I've got to finish that case. And see Mrs. Martin."  
  
"And the bureaucrats."  
  
"They can catch me. A moving target is harder to hit. I want to go by and see Tripp and Andrews, too. Did Adele say how they were?"  
  
"Tripp is driving the hospital staff nuts." He grinned, picturing it. "Andrews has a concussion but is doing fine. You'd better get dressed. Alexx will be here at 7:00 to make sure you're still alive."  
  
Horatio wasn't totally sure of that himself. The night had stiffened up all the sore points he'd known about and brought new ones to light. Calleigh helped him get dressed, since it hurt him to move his arms. They proceeded to the kitchen then and were just finishing breakfast when Alexx's knock was heard.  
  
Horatio let her in while Calleigh cleared the plates away. "Morning, Alexx."  
  
"Good morning." She looked from Horatio to Calleigh shrewdly, then relaxed, smiling at both of them. "How are you feeling, Horatio?"  
  
"A little sore, but not too bad." Calleigh shook her head as she dumped the plates in the sink. Horatio's definitions were quite inventive at times.  
  
Alexx had brought a small bag of medical supplies with her. "Sit," she commanded. Horatio sat down on the couch, and she sat beside him and slowly unwound the bandages. Calleigh came over herself to inspect the damage at close range. It did, indeed, look like he had been the victim of a hit-and-run by a sewing machine. The bruising was becoming evident, too, with his arms blossoming in various dark shades. It hurt just to look at them, Calleigh thought. Alexx inspected the gashes. "They look a little inflamed but not infected. Not yet, anyway. The inflammation is a perfectly normal response to the level of injury. Are you taking those antibiotics?"  
  
"Yes," he replied. "Calleigh is my witness." Calleigh nodded.  
  
Alexx started rebandaging his arms. "I suppose it's pointless to try to convince you to stay home today."  
  
"Totally pointless," Horatio agreed.  
  
"Well, at least try to keep from using them as much as you can. You can use your hands, but moving the arms in just about any direction is going to pull on at least one row of stitches, even aside from the bruises."  
  
"We've already found that out, actually," Calleigh said, smiling at Alexx.  
  
"Your car is in the driveway. Jonathan is picking me up in about five minutes. I'd avoid driving, Horatio. Not that you couldn't do it, but it would just make everything hurt worse."  
  
"We'll see how the day goes," he said noncommittally. Alexx sighed. "I've got to see Mrs. Martin to deliver Paul's message, and I've got to find that third man, assuming he isn't dead already."  
  
"Paul's message?" Alexx was puzzled.  
  
"Paul Martin, one of the officers who died," Calleigh informed her. "He asked Horatio to tell his wife he loved her." Alexx's eyes went back to Horatio sympathetically, and he stood up, briskly business like, shrugging off the concern and taking charge of the conversation. He couldn't accept sympathy for himself right now, not while others were still waiting for justice.  
  
"The first thing I need you to do today, Alexx, is autopsies from the explosion yesterday. Do the person or people inside the house first. I want a body count, and I want to know if Snake was in there. You should be able to recognize him. He was missing an upper front tooth. Teeth can survive almost anything."  
  
"I'll let you know," she said. The beep from her husband's car was heard outside. "Be reasonable today, Horatio. See you later, Calleigh." She left, and Horatio and Calleigh looked at each other.  
  
"What's first? Mrs. Martin, the hospital, the bureaucrats, or the case?" asked Calleigh.  
  
"First," said Horatio, going over to her, "we haven't properly said good morning yet. Good morning, Cal. Good morning, Rosalind."  
  
Calleigh kissed him back, overwhelmed with gratitude that she had the reality, not the dream or the nightmare. "Good morning, Horatio."  
  
***  
  
Speed arrived only a little late and wearing matching socks. He was humming as he entered CSI, enjoying the first morning of the week which hadn't started with an early call to a pharmacy. He spotted Eric with Valera in the break room, started to go in himself, then hesitated. They were quite close together and were laughing about something, obviously enjoying each other's company. Speed decided that three was a crowd and went on past the break room. He considered the pairing as he went on to Trace. Eric could do a lot worse. So could Valera, actually. Maybe his friend should be looking here at CSI instead of in clubs. Horatio and Calleigh had found each other on the job, after all, and that match was working out beautifully. Speed decided to grant Eric and Valera the enormous concession of not teasing them about it. Not for a while, anyway.  
  
He arrived at his own workstation and came to a confused but hopeful stop. A napkin was in the center of the table, with a doughnut parked in the middle of it. Chocolate covered with sprinkles, his favorite. Speed looked right and left. No one else was nearby to claim ownership. He grabbed it before it could disappear and polished it off in three bites, then noticed the note that had been tucked underneath. In Calleigh's flowing handwriting, it simply said, "Sorry, Tim." He grinned to himself while he chewed the last bite. This day was definitely an improvement over the last few.  
  
It was then that he spotted the second note on the table. This one was in Horatio's precise writing, signed H even though everyone at CSI knew his writing anyway. No one else Speed knew wrote like that, even and perfectly controlled. "Speed. First thing this morning, finish processing the residue on the floor from those three pharmacies. That was either from Snake or the 3rd perp, and I'm betting it was the 3rd man. Identify it and find out where it was picked up. Second, go back to the security tape and get me everything you can on the 3rd perp. Height, handedness, anything. The police artist is making a drawing with the Alvarez kid this morning, but I doubt he noticed smaller details. I want any information at all on that perp. When you know all about him and where he's been, let me know, and we'll go find him. H."  
  
Even without Horatio himself there, the thought of him could inspire effort. Speed quickly swallowed his last bite of doughnut, snapped on the gloves, and went to work.  
  
***  
  
A few hours later, Calleigh and Horatio returned to CSI after going to the hospital and then to see Mrs. Martin. Both of them were silent as they entered the labs, emotionally wrung out from that last visit. They walked down together to the autopsy bay, where they found Alexx working on Paul Martin's autopsy. Bad timing, Calleigh thought. Horatio looked steadily at the body, refusing to let himself turn away, his acknowledgement a silent promise to his former fellow officer. Calleigh put a supportive hand on his arm and squeezed it, which was a mistake. He nearly jumped out of his stitches, and she instantly let go, wishing she could hurt herself to compensate. "Sorry, Horatio. I wasn't thinking."  
  
He gave her a thin smile and turned his attention to Alexx. "How many were inside, Alexx?"  
  
"Just one," she said. "And I'm sure it was Snake. The tooth was missing, just like you said."  
  
Horatio's strained blue eyes focused on a point far beyond the room, the point where the unknown third perp waited for him. "The third one is still out there, then." He started to reach slowly for his cell phone and had only made it halfway when Speed appeared in person.  
  
"H. Tyler said he saw you come in. The dirt in that residue is a specific kind of soil mixed with fertilizer that nurseries use working with plants. There was also one fiber of burlap with it at that third pharmacy. They use burlap to tie up the roots of trees so they'll survive transplanting."  
  
"Nurseries." Horatio tilted his head thoughtfully. "Not something usually associated with drug gangs. If a nursery owner had a son, though, the son could have fallen in with the wrong crowd."  
  
"Like the Alvarez kid." Speed nodded. "Could be the son of a worker, though, not just the owner."  
  
"More likely the owner," Horatio said. "The son must have been working there recently to have picked up that much on his shoes, not just stopping by. Probably his parent is trying to keep an eye on him. Okay, here's what we do. You and I will swing back by the hospital to pick up the police artist drawing, and then we'll go to every nursery in town and ask if the owner has a son matching that description. What did you get from the tape?"  
  
"He's a bit taller than the Alvarez kid, shorter than Snake. About 5' 9", I'd say. Also, he's left-handed. He used the left one first every time he opened a pill drawer." Speed pulled a slightly crumpled paper out of his pocket. "I printed off a list of the nurseries in Miami, too."  
  
"Nice work." Horatio gave one final, lingering glance at Paul Martin, then headed for the door purposefully. "Let's go find him."  
  
"Horatio." Calleigh's voice stopped him, and he swung back around to look at her, smiling but asking a silent question with the eyes. "Let Speed drive." The smile faded. "Please, Horatio."  
  
He relented. "Okay. See you later, Calleigh. Maybe you can finish up your gang shootout."  
  
"Maybe so. High time I did. I love you, Horatio." She didn't usually say it outright at work, but she didn't care who was listening just now.  
  
He smiled at her again. "I love you, too." He spun around smoothly and was out the door before Speed realized he was moving again. The trace expert plunged after his boss, hurrying to catch up, and the autopsy room door clicked firmly shut behind him.  
  
Calleigh looked back at Alexx and gave her a weak smile. "He's going to push himself ruthlessly all the way through today and then totally collapse at the end of it."  
  
Alexx nodded. "He will come to the end of it first, though."  
  
"Yep," Calleigh agreed. "I just hope he's careful out there."  
  
"He does try to be careful, honey. Did you tell him?"  
  
"Yes. You're right; he didn't think it was silly. And I didn't have that dream again last night. Maybe telling him about it will make it go away. He didn't get much sleep, though." Calleigh looked at Paul Martin herself. "Alexx, could Horatio have done anything differently to save him?"  
  
"No. He had too many arteries cut. If it had happened 100 feet from the ER, I think he probably still would have bled to death. There's no way one person could have saved him, even if that one person hadn't already been hurt."  
  
"Be sure to put that in your report," Calleigh suggested.  
  
Alexx nodded knowingly. "I had already planned on it." Her gloved hands were occupied, but she hugged Calleigh with her eyes. "He'll be okay, Calleigh."  
  
"I know," she said. "I just hope he finds that perp quickly. I'd better get to work myself. See you, Alexx."  
  
"See you." Calleigh left, and Alexx returned her attention to Paul Martin. "Horatio went to see your wife this morning," she said, as if he could hear. "He passed on your message." Talking to the body as if she could distract it from her activities, Alexx continued her work.  
  
***  
  
Speed pulled the Hummer up to the fifth nursery, and they both got out, with Speed pretending not to notice how much it hurt Horatio to reach for the door handle and open it. They had just started up the sidewalk to the main building, though, when Horatio's cell phone rang. He gingerly fished it out and smiled as he glanced at the caller ID, and Speed ambled off a few feet to give him some privacy. The smile was caller ID enough. Horatio only smiled like that for one person. "Hi, Beautiful."  
  
"Hi, Handsome. How's the search going?"  
  
"Four nurseries down, only a few dozen left to go, assuming we're not lucky. If we get lucky, maybe only another four to go."  
  
He could hear the smile in her voice. "You don't need to be lucky. You're good."  
  
"I wouldn't turn down luck if it came my way. You didn't call me to ask where we were, though. You've got that woman on a mission tone behind your voice. What's up, Cal?"  
  
"It's time for you to take some more antibiotics. I just wanted to make sure you did."  
  
He'd forgotten on the hunt, actually. "Not yet. We'll grab a bite when we finish at this nursery, and I'll take them then."  
  
"Wrong," she said with southern finality. "You may say that with the best of intentions, but you'll get on some trail and forget about it. I want you to take them now, while I'm holding the phone, and then tell me you did." She knew he couldn't tell her a direct lie.  
  
Horatio sighed. "Hang on a sec. Speed." The trace expert was off studying bushes and ostentatiously not listening, but he looked back up at Horatio's call. "Run over to that gas station next door and buy us each a Coke, would you? I'll pay you back later."  
  
"Sure, H." Speed trotted off, fishing for change, and Horatio turned his attention back to the phone.  
  
"He'll be back in a minute. Don't you trust me, Cal?" The tone was playful, though, much different from the hurt of yesterday morning. He heard her answering smile.  
  
"On 99% of things, yes, implicitly. Taking medicine falls into the 1%."  
  
He grinned. "What would I do without you?"  
  
"Beats me. I don't know how you managed to survive all these years."  
  
His tone dropped back into seriousness. "I don't either. How are you coming along?"  
  
"Making progress. The next time a case has 18 guns with multiple shooters, though, I hope it happens on night shift."  
  
"No, you don't. If it did, you'd turn up to make sure they were doing it right."  
  
She laughed. "You're probably right."  
  
Speed returned holding out Horatio's drink, opening it as he offered it to him. Even if he hadn't said anything, he'd noticed how Horatio was avoiding using his arms as much as he could. "Thank you, Speed," Horatio said, and Speed nodded and retreated to analyzing the shrubbery again. "Just a second, Cal. This is going to take both hands." He put the phone on the hood of the Hummer and fought the child resistant cap on the prescription bottle, swearing silently to himself, until he managed to twist it open and fish one pill out. "Okay, Calleigh. I just took the antibiotics."  
  
"Take another one of the painkillers, too."  
  
"Not worth the bother of opening another bottle. It would hurt more to take them than not to."  
  
Calleigh stood firm. "Get Speed to open the bottle for you, then."  
  
He sighed and repeated the whole operation. "Okay, I took one. Satisfied?"  
  
"For the moment. I'll call you back in four hours unless you're done by then."  
  
Horatio slipped into mock sternness. "For now, we all need to get back to work. Too much time being wasted here. We have to give the taxpayers full value, you know."  
  
She laughed. "See you later, Horatio."  
  
"See you." He ended the call, gingerly pocketed the pills and the phone, and picked up his drink. Speed was still looking at the plants, hiding his smile behind his usual stony exterior. "Come on, Speed."  
  
***  
  
The owner of the eleventh nursery stared at the drawing. "Yes, I'm afraid I do have a son who looks something like this. It's not a perfect likeness, though," he added hopefully.  
  
"Is he left-handed?" Horatio hated this. For his sake, he wanted the answer to be there, but he knew that he was confirming this father's suspicions. Suspicions can be denied. Facts couldn't. At least, not by this man.  
  
"Yes," the man said simply. He closed his eyes for a minute, then reopened them. "He's been involved in some crime, hasn't he? Is it serious?"  
  
"I'm afraid so. I'm sorry, Mr. Duncan." The sincerity there was even stronger than the badge, and Mr. Duncan nodded in acknowledgement.  
  
"I always worried that he would be. His mother died five years ago, and he's been so resentful of everything since then. Falling in with the wrong crowd. I tried to get him to work here, give him something productive to do with his time, but he doesn't even turn up half the time. He used to like the plants, but it's just like nothing matters to him anymore."  
  
"Do you know where he is right now?"  
  
"Sorry. He should have been here this afternoon, but I haven't seen him since this morning. Rob said he was going off to school - he's a senior - but I didn't push him. Maybe I should have."  
  
To challenge the statement would have been admitting to himself that his son was a liar. Horatio knew why Mr. Duncan had let it go. "Who are his friends, Mr. Duncan? Who is his best friend?" His father would hardly know his drug contacts, but the son might be avoiding them after yesterday's explosion. His quasi-respectable friends would be a better shot this afternoon.  
  
"Chris something. Let me think a minute." Horatio stood patiently, not pushing, and Mr. Duncan snapped his fingers suddenly. "Harper. Chris Harper. I'm not sure how good an influence he is, but they've been good friends in school for years."  
  
"Do you know his address?" Mr. Duncan shook his head. "What school do they attend?" They would do it the long way, then. Mr. Duncan supplied the school name, and Horatio thanked him smoothly and left. He turned back for a second at the door, seeing the man sitting behind the counter with his head in his hands. An honest, hard-working, overwhelmed man who had done his best and who knew now for a certainty that it hadn't been enough. It's not your fault, Horatio wanted to tell him, but he knew Mr. Duncan wouldn't listen right now, any more than he himself had listened when Mrs. Martin said those same words to him this morning. Some days, he felt like he spent all of his time bringing pain to people instead of healing.  
  
"H?" Speed decided it was time to distract his boss.  
  
Horatio snapped back to himself, once again the consummate professional. "Coming. Call the school, Speed. Let's start cutting red tape."  
  
***  
  
The Hummer pulled up in front of Chris Harper's house. The house, like the whole neighborhood, had seen better days. It was one of a hundred similar low rent houses in a few blocks next to an industrial area. Neighborhood kids immediately spotted the Hummer, but no one came over to inspect it. Suspicion was the rule here. Horatio made sure Speed set the security system anyway.  
  
"Nice little neighborhood," Speed quipped as they went up the sidewalk. They looked for a doorbell and found none. Horatio gave the door one good knock and winced, and Speed took over, adding a few more. No one came. The neighborhood kids still looked at the Hummer with envious caution. "Don't think anyone's home, H."  
  
Horatio's head suddenly snapped up, and he turned and sprinted around the edge of the house. A fast-moving figure was just disappearing from view, ducking through back yards and between buildings. Horatio instantly gave chase, with Speed panting to catch up with him. "H, should I get the Hummer?"  
  
"No, he won't stick to roads. We'll get him this way faster." Horatio followed like a bloodhound on the track, not even noticing at the moment that he was jolting every bruise he had in this chase. He spun between buildings, nimbly jumped a small trash pile, and caught another glimpse of the quarry ahead. They had closed the distance a little. Horatio stretched out to a full sprint, and Speed plowed after him, trying to keep up.  
  
Rob Duncan raced along, trying to use his knowledge of this area, trying to think through the fear that had gripped him since yesterday. The man was glued to his trail, and he couldn't shake him or outrun him. He left the houses behind for the industrial section and took three turns quickly, trying to confuse his pursuer. Ahead of him was an alley, and he turned that way instantly, suddenly hopeful again. These were all abandoned buildings. A heaven sent hiding place for him, if he could just get in one. He entered the alley at a dead run and frantically tried the doors that lined it. The third one opened with a squeaky protest at long disuse, and he ducked inside. 


	6. Premonition 6

And the conclusion. See part 1 for disclaimers, etc. Thanks for all the feedback.  
  
***  
  
"And being warned in a dream . . ."  
  
The Bible, Matthew 2:12  
  
***  
  
Horatio appeared at the end of the alley a few minutes later, with Speed lagging a bit further behind. Their guns drawn, they started down the alley together. Horatio spotted the still swinging door instantly and indicated it with a nod. They flattened themselves on either side of it against the building, then, on Horatio's count, burst through, guns ready.  
  
The building echoed emptiness. It had been some sort of restaurant or bar at one point, but that point was long past. Dust was the only customer now. Old tables filled the open space. The bar stretched along the right side of the long room, and Horatio edged that way, suddenly pouncing around the end to look behind it, ready for a shot. There was nothing to shoot.  
  
Speed edged up behind him. "You sure he came in here, H?" Horatio did not answer, and Speed glanced at his boss. Horatio was standing there with his head tilted slightly in his familiar analytical pose, his eyes traveling slowly around the room as if he were using them to process the scene with some personal, built-in microscope. Much stronger than the analysis, though, was an air of mingled amazement and confusion. The combination was so unusual for Horatio, who never seemed off balance to Speed, that the trace expert forgot all about the perp and lowered his own gun. "H? You okay?" Horatio didn't even seem to hear. Maybe he was hurt worse than he'd seemed today. Speed reached out and gripped his arm carefully above the elbow, both to get his attention and to support him if he needed it. "Horatio!"  
  
The blue eyes finished their sweep of the room and ended up on Speed almost by default, having looked at everything else. They still looked startled more than anything. "What is it, Speed?" He sounded like he was responding to a question back at CSI, his tone politely routine.  
  
"Are you okay?" Speed was becoming more and more convinced that he wasn't. He'd never seen Horatio zone out in the middle of a chase before.  
  
"Fine," he said as if discussing the weather. He took one more sweeping scan of the building, faster this time, then abruptly snapped back to his usual competent self so quickly that Speed was the one left confused. Horatio's voice was even quieter than usual but dripping with intensity. "Okay, Speed. I want you to stay right with me. Watch out for broken chairs and table legs on the floor, and don't trip over anything. At the back of that balcony up there, in the far end we can't see, there are two old bathrooms. The perp is in the men's. He's in the far stall, sitting on the back of the toilet with his feet up so nothing will show underneath. He's got a gun, and he's scared enough to use it. Stay right with me and follow my lead."  
  
Speed gaped at him. "What?"  
  
Horatio gave up on the explanation. This wasn't the time for it. "Stick close." He crept up the stairs on cat feet, with Speed trying to reproduce his stealth and not coming close. Horatio deliberately went slowly, though, forcing himself to not forge on ahead. He headed directly for the men's, homing in with some radar invisible to Speed, not even glancing at the rest of the balcony. He paused at the door, gun ready, and looked to make sure Speed had his prepared, too. They softly entered the bathroom. Horatio didn't even stoop to look under the doors. Instead, he spoke with rock-solid authority, keeping his gun trained on the last stall door, indicating with one look that Speed should do the same. "Rob Duncan, I know you're sitting there with your gun in that last stall. There are two of us out here, and you can't possibly get past both of us. Slide the gun out underneath the door." Nothing happened. Horatio gave it five seconds, then fired his own gun at a slight angle across the stall door, barely piercing the door at the far side to bury a bullet in the wall just inside the stall. "That shot missed you. The next one will angle a little further in. The next one will go further than that. I'll keep going as long as I have to, and I have plenty of ammunition. It's your move, Rob."  
  
A few seconds of silence, and then there was an abrupt scuffling sound, like a 170-pound rat. Two feet dropped into view below the stall door. "Put the gun on the floor and push it out gently with your foot," Horatio instructed. A hand descended with the gun, and the foot nudged it out underneath the stall door. "Get it, Speed. And Rob, I'm still covering you, so don't try to go for him." Speed edged cautiously forward and retrieved the gun, then handed it to Horatio. "Okay, Rob, now come out slowly with your hands up." One very scared perp slowly exited the stall. His face was whiter than toothpaste. That one shot plowing into the wall a few scant feet in front of him had killed his resistance. Only the fear was left alive. Horatio nodded to Speed, and Speed worked his way around behind him and snapped the cuffs on, glad that Horatio had made sure they both had handcuffs with them on their manhunt today. Horatio kept covering the perp, a gun in each hand, his arms steady as rocks in spite of the fact that he was suddenly becoming aware just how much they were killing him.  
  
Speed marched the secured perp forward, and Horatio backed away, keeping him covered. Rob Duncan stared at him as he exited the bathroom. "How did you know I was there?"  
  
Horatio gave him an icy smile. "I'm smarter than you are. The law always is."  
  
***  
  
They were outside the building in the alley, with Duncan sitting with his back to the wall. . Horatio kept him covered while Speed called for reinforcements. The trace expert snapped the cell phone shut and edged up close to his boss. "They're coming, H."  
  
"Cover him, would you?" Horatio finally let his throbbing arms relax, holstering his own gun and pocketing the perp's. Duncan wouldn't be trying anything. He was still looking at Horatio with a stunned expression. Horatio didn't want to prop himself against the wall with Duncan watching, so he stayed upright, but the release of just putting the guns down was incredible. He gave himself a couple of seconds, then backed off a few feet and slowly pried his own cell phone out of his pocket.  
  
"Hi, Handsome." Her voice, as always, gave him strength. He straightened up a bit more.  
  
"Hi. I just wanted to let you know right away, we caught our perp. We just cornered him in an old abandoned bar, and everything's okay."  
  
There was a good five seconds of silence, and Calleigh's voice was fragile, hung with icicles, when she finally responded. "In an old abandoned bar?"  
  
"And everything's okay," he emphasized. "Speed and I went up together to the balcony and found him hiding in the restroom in the last stall."  
  
Calleigh let out a shuddering sigh. They each held their phones for a good minute of silence. Words weren't needed for that conversation. In the distance, Horatio heard the first sirens. "I've got to go, Cal," he said. "I'll see you later."  
  
The icicles slowly broke away from her and shattered harmlessly into tiny fragments. "Yes, you will," she said fervently. "I love you, Horatio."  
  
"I love you, too. Talk to you later."  
  
He snapped the phone shut as the police cars entered the alley. Duncan was quickly put in the back seat of one of them, and after some preliminary statements, Horatio and Speed headed back to their Hummer. The rest of the processing would take place down at headquarters. They walked slowly over the path that they had raced along 30 minutes before. Horatio reversed their route automatically, without thinking, and Speed silently trailed him, looking at his boss's granite features. "H?" he asked finally.  
  
"What is it, Speed?" The exact same words, in the exact same tone, that he had used back in the bar, as if this whole day were simply routine.  
  
"Um, had you ever been in that building before?"  
  
"Nope, I've never seen it in my life." There was the faintest emphasis on the second word, but Speed didn't notice.  
  
"So, how did you know where he was hiding? How did you know the layout?"  
  
Horatio smiled at him as they reached the Hummer. "Just a hunch," he said, and Speed knew he wouldn't get any more answer than that out of him. Speed disabled the security system, and Horatio climbed into the vehicle slowly. As the Hummer pulled out, he suddenly decided to change plans. He had meant to go see Mrs. Martin again tonight after everything else was done, to tell her the case was finished, but he wasn't sure how much he would have left by then, considering how he felt now. She deserved more than the dregs of him. "Speed, let's make a quick side trip on the way back. We're going to go see Paul Martin's widow." He gave the address.  
  
Speed's hand hovered uncertainly over the turn signal. "H, they'll be waiting for us back at headquarters to do all the paperwork."  
  
"That's right, they will," Horatio agreed.  
  
Speed sighed and flipped on the blinker. The Hummer turned its massive shoulder to those waiting at headquarters and headed for Mrs. Martin's home. Horatio leaned his head back against the headrest and tried to gather his energy, getting enough of a grip on himself to be free to reach out to her without distraction. Speed kept glancing over at him out of the corner of his eye, trying to work out exactly what had happened back there, watching Horatio as much as he was watching the road. Finally, with a mental shrug, he gave up on it. Horatio was just uncanny at times.  
  
***  
  
Much later that night, Horatio found himself up in his office filling out the final reports to sign off on the pharmacy cases. The last few hours had had far too much paperwork for his tastes. After seeing Mrs. Martin, he and Speed had given statements at HQ to finish the booking on Rob Duncan. Calleigh had called him right at the end of that process to remind him to take some more pills. He had ducked out to the nearest water fountain to do so, and that was when the minions of bureaucracy caught up with him. They required their official reports and forms filled out on the explosion, they had been looking for him all day, and the fact that the case was now solved made no difference to them at all. The fact that a report is no longer pertinent to an investigation is no reason to the bureaucratic mind why it should not be made. Calleigh at least had sounded apologetic on the phone when he had complained about his plight. She was just finishing her final report on the gang shoot out, and then she had some quick shopping to do, she said, but if he wasn't free by the time she got back, she would come rescue him. The bureaucrats were much less sympathetic. No matter what else he had been doing all day, surely it couldn't have been more important than his report to them.  
  
After an hour and a half with them, he finally made it over to CSI. Calleigh wasn't back yet, and he hauled himself up the stairs to his office, wondering hazily if the budget for next year might allow him to replace them with an escalator. He settled himself behind his desk and started working through the reports there. This was the paperwork that did matter, evidence logs, CSI reports, things that would be crucial in successful prosecution of Alvarez and Duncan. Horatio started processing it, forcing himself to be as thorough and painstaking as he could be. The two officers who had died on this case deserved that much and more, but that much, at least, he could give them.  
  
The problem he quickly discovered was that it hurt horribly to rest his arms against the desk. He hadn't done much writing today until the last few hours, so he hadn't realized until then what the hard surface would feel like with both arms extensively stitched up. Horatio clenched his teeth and pushed on past it, but it stubbornly refused to just be ignored. He kept working anyway.  
  
He sifted through the reports from the different CSIs on the case. Eric had processed the explosion site that day, and his conclusion was definite. Like many home-made meth shops, it had been an accident waiting to happen. Too many chemicals too close together with too few precautions. Eric had found broken bits of glass with residue of multiple components. They hadn't done their dishes very thoroughly. Sunlight added to the equation had proven fatal at an unfortunate moment, but there was no deliberate timing there. Snake would have been as surprised as the police were if he had time to think about it.  
  
Alexx's autopsy reports received careful attention. Snake and Martin's partner had died instantly, but Paul Martin's report was of the most interest to him. Alexx's calm, unhurried handwriting told the story. Multiple arteries severed . . . massive blood loss . . . irreparable damage. Horatio read over the last two words several times. Irreparable damage. That was what crime did all too often. But he could still try, as he had done. "Sorry, Paul," he said aloud, but there wasn't guilt in it any more, just regret. He finished with Alexx's report, signing off in the places needed, transferring a condensed version of the findings to his own official case report.  
  
Calleigh found him there a little later and stood in the doorway to his office watching him for a minute before he realized she was there, which fact itself spoke volumes to her. She studied his face, which was even paler than usual, and the fine lines of pain around his mouth and quickly made a fairly accurate assessment of how he was feeling. "Hey, Handsome," she said finally.  
  
He looked up, and the smile transformed his face, almost making her forget for a minute how tired he was. "Hey yourself. All finished?"  
  
"Finally. High time you were finished, too. Come on, Horatio. Let's go home."  
  
His lips tightened stubbornly. "Not yet."  
  
Calleigh sighed and set down her package. "Come on. It will still be there in the morning. You've done enough for today."  
  
"Wrong. It won't still be here in the morning, because it will be finished tonight. I already talked to Mrs. Martin and promised her all the loose ends would be tied up tonight. I've got to finish this, Cal."  
  
Calleigh started to push the issue, then caught herself at it, remembering Alexx's words. She pulled out a chair in front of his desk and settled into it. "Okay, but do you mind if I sit here and watch you?" If he actually fell out of his chair, she would at least be the first to know that way.  
  
He grinned. "Not at all. I think I've got an advantage in that activity, though." His eyes ran over her appreciatively. Pregnancy was making her even more beautiful, he thought.  
  
"I beg to differ," Calleigh insisted. He actually wasn't looking at his best at all, tired and under an obvious strain, but sitting there doggedly finishing up the case, putting others ahead of himself, he looked absolutely like Horatio, and she couldn't imagine anything in the world more beautiful. She sat there just admiring him for several minutes. He kept working on his report, but he felt her eyes on him, and his smile stayed. She finally did notice how much he was trying to keep his arms from touching the desk while writing, and she stood up suddenly, taking her jacket off and coming around the corner of the desk. "Sit back a second, Horatio."  
  
"Why?" His puzzled blue eyes switched to gratitude as she folded the jacket into a pad and placed it across the front of his desk.  
  
"Try that," she said. "Any better?"  
  
He rested his arms across the jacket instead of the hard surface. It was a small improvement. "Mmm hmm. Thanks."  
  
She kissed him affectionately, then went back around to the front of the desk. What she really wanted to do was to drag him out of here bodily and take him home, but she knew he wouldn't leave until he was done. Delaying him would only put off going home that much more.  
  
He kept working for another half hour, then sat back, giving his arms a break for a minute. He found her eyes on him worriedly and gave her a reassuring grin. "Did you get your shopping done?"  
  
"Yes." She'd forgotten about it since entering the office. She got up and retrieved her package from just inside the door.  
  
"What did you have to get?"  
  
"A present for you, actually, but it's not wrapped yet." She hesitated as it occurred to her that wrapping it would only force him to unwrap it, which wouldn't be much of a gift to him at the moment.  
  
"A present? What's the occasion?"  
  
"We're both alive, and we're married."  
  
He nodded thoughtfully. "Good occasion. We should celebrate it more often."  
  
"You're right, we should. Here, forget wrapping it." She pulled the box out of the sack. Maybe it would give him a bit of an energy lift.  
  
Horatio looked puzzled, which she had expected. This would require some explanation. She removed the gift from its clear-fronted box herself and stood it on his desk alongside the paperwork. It was a model of a horse, not a toy but a realistic replica in every detail. It was a white horse with darker gray on the legs and muzzle, a powerful horse with an air of nobility, with arched neck and high-stepping hooves, looking like a chess piece come to life and completed. "A horse?" Horatio asked.  
  
"A white horse," she specified. "When I was a kid, I used to read these stories where the handsome prince would come for the princess, or where the knight in shining armor would rescue the damsel in distress. I would dream of it happening to me someday. And for some reason, they were always on a white horse. So I decided to give you a white horse, Horatio. Because what I've got now is even better than what they had."  
  
Understanding started to dawn in his eyes. "I'm not a knight in shining armor, Calleigh."  
  
Privately, she disputed it. Shining armor could take many forms, after all. But that wasn't what he needed to hear at the moment. "I know. That's why there isn't a knight in shining armor along with it. Just the horse. No knight required." She leaned forward slightly, meeting his eyes directly over the desk. "You complete the picture perfectly, Horatio, exactly like you are. All of my dreams came true, and they even improved on the way. I've realized that what I really wanted, all my life, wasn't a knight. It was you. Don't ever doubt that, Horatio. If I could, I wouldn't change anything." She reached out to touch the horse. "It reminded me of you." It really did, from the granite lines to the power to the noble grace. Calleigh had been looking for a white horse that was neither stylized nor a toy, but Lisa had suggested this specific white horse, and she had been right.  
  
He was touched. "Thank you, Calleigh," he said, eyes moist. "Reality has improved on my dreams, too."  
  
She returned his smile. "And think of Rosalind."  
  
"I can't wait," he said. "Just seeing her with you will be a dream come true."  
  
Seeing her with him would be the dream come true, Calleigh thought. And thinking of dreams coming true abruptly reminded her of the abandoned bar that day. It was like getting hit in the face with a bucket of cold water. I actually resisted telling him, she thought. If I hadn't told him.  
  
"You did tell me, though," he answered the thought, and she looked up from her clenched hands to meet his eyes.  
  
"Horatio, how do you think that happened? It was the strangest thing."  
  
"I don't know. I've heard of it happening occasionally, read about it, but to be faced with it is something else. Much as we try, science will never be able to explain everything." He smiled suddenly. "My mother used to pull a Shakespeare line on me whenever I would run into something that refused to be analyzed."  
  
"Which line?"  
  
"From Hamlet. 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'"  
  
She smiled back at him. "That's perfect for you."  
  
"Yes, she knew me pretty well. Of course, that's no reason to stop trying to explain things."  
  
"Of course not," she agreed.  
  
He reached out and stroked the horse lightly. He did like it, she could tell. Even more, he understood it. "One thing, though, Cal."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"If you ever have a recurring dream like that again, be sure to tell me."  
  
"Believe me, I will. I'll wake you up to tell you, even."  
  
"Do that." He smiled at her, then looked back at the paperwork. "Well, much as I enjoy talking with you, this report isn't going away. I do have to finish this tonight. I promised Mrs. Martin."  
  
"I know." He gingerly propped his arms across her jacket again and resumed his work. She sat there watching him gratefully. "Horatio, is there anything I could do to help?"  
  
He considered it, head tilted slightly. "Actually, yes, there is. You could clean my gun. That would save me doing it when we get home."  
  
"Did you have to fire it?" Her throat tightened up again.  
  
"Just to get his attention, Cal. It worked." He leaned back again, starting to fish it slowly out of its holster, and she came around the desk and got it out for him.  
  
"I'm going down to get a gun cleaning kit. Back in a minute." He nodded vaguely, already lost in the paperwork again, and she hurried down to Ballistics, then hurried back, not wanting to let him out of her sight any longer than she had to. She sat in the chair in front of his desk and broke the gun down, cleaning it thoroughly, even affectionately. It had saved him today. She looked back up regularly, monitoring him. He was so tired he was sagging in his chair now until the increased pressure on his arms made him realize what he was doing and straighten up with a jerk. His handwriting was as even and controlled as ever, though, signing and sealing the case against the criminals. In a little while, when he was finished, she would take him home, put him to bed, and give him enough of a dose of painkiller to really let him sleep tonight. For now, though, she just sat in front of the desk, looking up from her own work to watch him. The horse stood guard on the desk between them in the circle of light from his desk lamp. She looked from the horse to his tired, diligent face behind it and was lost in gratitude at what she had, what they had. No fairy tale she had ever read had prepared her for the reality. He looked up regularly, too, resting his eyes on her for a few seconds, enjoying his own view. Later, she would take care of him, and he would let himself be taken care of, but for now, just sitting there, working silently together, was enough for both of them.  
  
*** ***  
  
If you would like to see Calleigh's gift to Horatio, go to Ebay and run a search using the three words Pluto, Lipizzaner, and Breyer. There will probably usually be at least one up for auction with a picture attached.  
  
*** ***  
  
On the next episode of CSI:Miami - Fearful Symmetry: "Do No Harm." Alexx's past and present collide on a case, and Horatio and Calleigh prepare for the birth of Rosalind. 


End file.
